Something for the committee to put on the radar: Insurance.
- What about it? - School needs some.
- I can ask on the street. - What?
Oh, too cool for street insurance? Must be nice.
My sister wants to know what I'm bringing to my grandson's birthday.
I'm sensing an emergency collage situation.
I wasn't invited. My son had a kid three years ago.
I barely get to see him on major holidays.
I mean, who in the hell does he think he is?
- You saw your son at his wedding. - No, that's Furio, my gay son. Him, I get.
Hank's a knob, doesn't have any hobbies, interests.
All he does is play... What do you call that crap with dungeons and dragons?
- "Dungeons and Dragons"? - That's the crap.
- I know that game. - We play "Dungeons and Dragons."
Guys, let's play "D&D" to help Hickey reconnect with his son.
Was everyone's takeaway last time that we use "D&D" to reprogram brains?
Not that we almost caused a suicide?
We prevented one. Fa... bulous Neil felt like a nobody.
And thanks to us, he's still out there, doing this and that in the background.
Satisfying sequel's difficult.
Many geniuses defeated themselves through hubris.
Making this a chance to prove I'm better. I'm in!
All in favour of a game of "Dungeons and Dragons"...
...to reunite Hickey and his son tomorrow night?
Aye!
Well, okay. It's short notice, but I think it'll be good for me.
So, Dad...
...I'm just curious.
What is it about "Dungeons and Dragons"...
...that suddenly leapt out at you at age 60?
Dungeons. It'd be the dungeons.
Let's begin.
A blood orange sunrise crests the peaks of Rage Mountain...
...as you arrive at the troubled Galindor.
Ahead to the north, a bridged ravine.
Beyond that, a mysterious black tower where, rumour has it...
...an evil necromancer dwells.
Your goal: Reach the top and destroy the necromancer...
...freeing the realm from his evil magic.
Oh, that's just what I love about role-playing games...
...is being told exactly what to do.
- Me too. - You should introduce yourselves.
I am...
Oh, boy. Joseph Gordon Diehard. Really?
Son of Sir Riggs Diehard.
Well, I'm Sir Riggs Diehard, so I guess I'm your dad in the game too.
- Oh, my God, so cool. - Isn't that weird?
Oh, boy. Guys, I don't suppose...
...this is some contrived paint-by-numbers adventure...
...that's designed to force an emotional bond...
...between me and my emotionally stunted father, is it?
- No way, Jose. - What?
I got an idea. Why don't we just sort of reshuffle all these...
...redistribute them. Yeah, just mix them up a bit.
I don't think...
And here we go.
Hello, everyone. I am Tristram Steelheart.
I'm a holy cleric with a mace and a dumb name.
I'm Tiny Nuggins, a thief, and the rest is gibberish.
Greetings, I am Fibrosis the Ranger.
I'm Crouton, the half-orc Druid. Druid?
Oh, Crouton.
Hector the Well-Endowed? Again?
You think that's a weird coincidence? I'm a troll named Dingleberry.
That's my mom's nickname for me.
I'm who Hickey was, Sir Riggs Diehard.
I am Joseph Gordon, son of Riggs.
"I protect the blade of Diehard...
...a family sword whose power knows no equal.
In our clan, the leader carries the hilt, his eldest heir, the blade...
...for we believe man's greatest weapon against evil...
...is the bond...
Is the bond between father and son."
What would you guys like to do?
We should cross the bridge and head for the black tower. Huzzah?
- Huzzah? - Huzzah.
I don't know if I'm gonna head across the bridge.
What else is out there? What's south or east or west?
How about it, Aziz?
I walk too far south, do I fall off your graph paper there?
You can head south.
I've generated some details about the surrounding area.
You know, for God's sakes, Hank, it's been five seconds.
- Can you not do this? - Hey, you tell me.
Are we losing?
No. It's not a competition. The only winner is fun.
We're having fun.
I go to Tristram, and I'm laughing...
...and I pick him up, and I carry him to the bridge. It's fun.
Hector is trying to lift you.
I cast "Torvin's Flesh of Fire."
Tristram murmurs an incantation.
His body becomes wreathed in white hot flame, burning Hector for...
Six damage.
- Hey! - Hector, that's called self-defence.
Tristram's spell has caught the bridge on fire.
The ropes snap causing the bridge to twist.
I'm rolling dexterity checks to see if you all hold on.
Abed, considering the bigger picture...
...you think it might be possible you miscalculated the bridge strength?
Would've been constructed in the third age by goblins.
They used primitive iron anchors.
Ropes are yanked on both sides and you all plummet into the ravine below.
- Abed! - Oh, no.
- What? - Abed!
You plunge into the icy, raging waters of Skull River.
- What? - You know, what's your problem?
- What? - You didn't invite me...
- ...to Sebastian's birthday. - I knew it!
Who hoards a man's grandson?
He's not your grandson. He's my son.
And I didn't invite you to the birthday party because I wanted to enjoy it.
You know, fathers and sons, there is a lot of power between them.
- Yes. - Stop it.
And I spent a long time letting that power...
...push me away from my dad, and I regret it.
So, what's ever between you guys...
...will only get fixed when you're together.
They're not together.
- Not helping! - Be a bad Dungeon Master if I was.
Jeff, Hickey, Annie, Shirley, washed down the left fork of the river...
...others to the right.
Father!
If you're gonna continue, Hank, Britta, Chang, Dean Pelton...
- ...go into a different room. - We're not going to continue.
Thank you very much, guys. This was just awesome.
Yeah, wait, wait. I'll play your dragon game with you.
But let's make it interesting. If I kill the necrophile before you do...
...I come to my grandson's birthday. We'll settle it like men.
Or whatever you call the guys that play this.
Okay.
But if I kill the necromancer before you do...
...then you don't go to Christmas or Thanksgiving at Aunt Rachel's.
You don't even go to that.
Yeah, but I will if you don't.
- Okay, fine. - Okay.
Let the real game begin.
I will find you!
Well, I'm assuming you guys can help me beat him...
...because if we lose, I'm gonna punch each of you in the heart.
You awaken on a riverbank, surrounded by treacherous, godforsaken...
...non-zip line vacation jungle.
I build a fire and construct a crude wooden rack...
...to dry my boots and oversized codpiece.
And I can make some s'mores out of horse meat and s'more horse meat.
Build a fire? Horse s'mores? Screw this.
- The river runs east. I head west. - Tiny Nuggins scampers into the jungle.
Hey, I didn't scamper in the jungles of Nicaragua and I won't do it now.
- Wait, come back. I follow him. - Me too.
Tiny Nuggins, if we rest, we'll regain our strength.
And lose my family.
I'll imaginary sleep when I'm imaginary dead.
In the distance, you notice a patrol of hobgoblins.
- Hobgoblins? - Larger, stronger, and worth more...
- ...in Scrabble than regular goblins. - Get down.
I punch him in the heart and I keep running.
There are no women with them, are there? I got class.
You charge, alerting them to your presence.
You attack the nearest one in the chest.
- You miss and fall down. - What?
Hobgoblins are heading toward Nuggins with spears.
Oh, no. I cast "Entangle" on them.
Crouton the Druid waves her arms...
...causing grass, vines and branches to entangle the limbs of...
Four hobgoblins.
The two free hobgoblins fire arrows at Crouton.
One pierces her shoulder.
The other her chest.
I fire an arrow at them.
Hit.
Hobgoblins don't like their odds. They bolt into the jungle.
Yeah, you better run.
Go find a name that's not just another creature's name plus "hob."
- Crouton? - I'm here.
She was badly wounded from her fall in the Skull River...
...and the arrows were just too much. I'm sorry.
That's it? Is she dead?
Yes, that's it, Hickey.
I'm dead.
But it's okay.
I'm on your side.
Which is why I'm dead.
And I may be gone...
...but just remember whenever the wind whispers through the woods...
...you got me killed.
Now, you listen to me, young man.
I've punched about a thousand hearts in my life.
- I never, never missed. - You ever been a 3-foot tall half ling...
...running through 2-foot high vines trying to punch a 7-foot monster?
I'm gonna check the others. Check your character.
Or just kind of generally take this game seriously. Your son does.
I take a moment of silence to mourn my fallen comrade, Crouton...
...before rifling through her belongings.
- My father? - No way to know where the others are.
You're still travelling north along narrow cliff edges...
...of Hawthorne Mountains. I'll roll for encounters.
I'd like to cast a healing spell on Fibrosis.
Thank you.
But I'm not gonna help you kick your dad out of your life.
I don't think this competition is healthy.
I don't think what you did back there was cool.
You think I'm the bad guy because I didn't invite him to my son's birthday.
But you know where he was...
...for most of my birthdays?
Little place that rhymes with "not there."
Times Square?
You hear an ominous screeching.
Moving upward into view, three huge, white arachnids with eagle wings.
Sky Spiders.
I draw my sword, and I cry out, "Back, eight-legged demons!
I will not scoop you up with a catalogue and let you outside on this day!"
Stay your blade, Joseph Gordon.
Sky Spiders are as frightened of us as we are of them.
Plus, they eat all the sky mosquitoes.
I cast "Speak with Monsters," and I say:
"Hello. You're looking well."
The lead spider bends four knees and twitches its hairy ovipositor...
...rhythmically secreting and retracting a giant droplet...
Or drop... of silk.
Fibrosis, as a ranger...
...you recognise this as the arachnid signal of submission.
Nice work, Tristram.
Damn, you made that Sky Spider your bitch, yo!
You've tracked the hobgoblins to this shack.
One guard hob-guards. What they call guarding.
- Go. - Sniper arrow on the guard.
Strikes true. Guard drops.
- I move to the doorway, detect traps. - None detected.
- I enter. - Left flank.
- Right! - One, facing east.
- Backstab. - Double damage.
He's dead. Footsteps behind the door to the north.
I notch two arrows.
- Climb the walls, get above the door. - Goblins enter from the north.
- I fire. - Both arrows hit.
- Cleave! - You kill one and wound another.
I drop on the last one and grapple.
- You got a hold of him. - This one is for Crouton.
With his dying breath, he utters:
"The dark lord will kill you all."
Wait, these things can talk?
I want two taken alive.
I wanna try something.
Hi.
I'm Tiny Nuggins.
I'm gonna put my dagger down right here, so we can just talk.
Human trash.
Yeah, look, I'm gonna give it to you straight.
We're looking for a necromancer.
We don't need two goblins to find him.
So between you and your friend, who do you think's the most useful?
Man, your friend sure can talk.
Liar. He'll never turn.
Oh, yeah, because of that famous goblin loyalty.
I could never drive a wedge between you and some guy from work.
I was best man at that guy's wedding.
Your friend says you just got married.
Congratulations. Too bad about the food.
I hope your flesh rots in... Wait.
What about the food?
Oh, I guess he didn't like your wedding toast.
Golbak said that?
Klang doesn't approve of you and Lisa, Golbak...
...and I don't get the sense it's because of his feelings for you.
I think about Lisa, sitting in that hole in Darktooth Canyon...
...with that little Frimrok and Grignog rolling about on the wolf pelts.
Come on, between you and me, which one do you think is yours?
No!
I know where the tower is.
Sky Spiders have flown you as far as their complex religion allows.
They set you down and express, through intricate prancing...
- ...directions to the tower. - Yes.
Father, forgive me.
I have travelled so far from you.
How many game days since the Skull River ripped us apart?
How many real hours since I've gone pee?
We seek this necromancer.
Why? Why?
Our reasons are dreams, our dreams, dust.
I send word on wings of sparrows...
...in hopes they might find you.
Abed says the odds are near impossible.
That's enough for me.
Should you receive this message, I know of a way to reunite.
According to my character sheet...
...if I rub the blade of our magic family sword while you rub the hilt...
...twin beacons of light will reveal our locations to each other.
Each night, I will think of you and rub...
...praying for the night fate will find us rubbing together.
Your son, Joseph Gordon Diehard.
Something strange has happened.
A sparrow lands on Riggs Diehard's shoulder.
It carries a note.
"Abed, I rub my sword's hilt"?
Beam of light shoots up from your location...
...as the hilt of Diehard seeks its blade.
The beam arcs and meets an equal beam in the woods to the north.
Is that where the others are?
Yes, 10 miles away, same as you.
So we'll be arriving at the tower...
At the same time tomorrow morning.
This began as a race.
But it may end in war.
Does anybody have a toothpick?
I got a piece of popcorn stuck in my tooth.
Like, right under the gum. I've been trying like for 15 minutes...
...with, you know, my tooth and then with my tongue and my finger.
I'm always one tooth off, and I just can't seem to...
Oh, hello, there we go. Anyway...
But it may end in war.
Maybe after all we've been through...
...we should just call this thing off.
What, you think that's up to us?
You've seen the way he talks to me, doesn't want his father in his life.
He'll do anything to win, and that includes attacking you.
And you best believe that your little friends in there...
...are drinking up his Kool-Aid.
This is a man who thinks of grandchildren like trophies.
Which is why he'll play to win.
And why I can't let him.
Rise, brave, sweet Dingleberry.
Rise.
Both parties have arrived at the black tower.
Hi, guys.
- Father. - Joseph Gordon.
We are here so Tristram Steelheart, Lord of the Sky Spiders...
...can slay the necromancer. You cool or are we gonna have to get red?
Tiny Nuggins, Waterboarder of Goblins, will do the slaying...
...because every man has the right to hang out with his grandson.
Too bad you're outnumbered.
No, they're not.
I'm not part of this.
I am Joseph Gordon Diehard...
...and I am only here to hug my father, which I now do.
It's a trick!
- I'm not letting him hug me. - I hug my father!
- He has gunpowder in his pants. - I draw my sword. Stay back!
- I draw an arrow. - So do I!
Troll sound!
- Lower your sword? - No!
- Dean, are you...? - I hug my father!
You're impaled.
Worth it.
Good Lord.
Son slayer!
- I attack Jeff! - Arrow at Chang!
- Arrow at Annie! - I head for the door.
So do I!
- Taste the blade of Diehard! - I run!
- Turn a snake into a rope! - Two arrows!
- Spear, spear! - I take the kid, pop him.
- Three damage. - Lightning bolt, lightning bolt!
Heal our moderate wounds!
- I spray all over them. - I hold Britta's face in a puddle.
- Seven damage. - Cleave, cleave, cleave!
- I fire two arrows. - I drink from the Chalice of Knowing.
Dingleberry smash!
- Plus three, demonic eye look. - Pull and shove it up them!
After that, I put one right behind the ear.
I fire two...
Sir Riggs, hand in character sheet.
- Top floor, one door. - I open it.
- "Flame Strike." - You did already.
- Mace! - Okay. Missed.
- Hit him with a throwing dagger. - Used all your knives.
What? Will one of you guys take care...?
- What? You're all dead? I keep going. - I follow.
You've reached the necromancer's workshop.
You see his bed, bottles of goop, some necromancing crap...
...but no necromancer.
I search. Can I search or are you gonna stab me in the back?
Hey, I am a thief, not a wuss. I search too.
You find a secret door. It's easy, already open.
It leads to a ladder which goes straight down to another open door...
- ...on the back of the tower. - Man. Way to go.
That's great. He just got away.
Hey, you can't just say he's gone. You owe us an ending.
I owe you nothing.
I am a Dungeon Master.
I create a boundless world, and I bind it by rules.
Too heavy for a bridge? It breaks.
Get hit? Take damage. Spend an hour outside someone's front door...
...fighting over who gets to kill him? He leaves through the back.
He's out there. You might find him, if you get your crap together.
Hey, guys. Take it from a bunch of ghosts.
This is no kind of life.
You need fresh air and frozen yogurt.
It's on me. Hug it out.
- Gag me. - Who even uses that phrase?
I'm climbing down the ladder.
- I'm gonna find this guy. - I stay and search the workshop.
- Any stuff there that can heal me? - Some potions.
Okay, well, I get half of that.
You just went down the ladder.
I can... Can I hear him looting upstairs?
Not if I move about silently.
Fine, fine. If I heal you, can we divide the potions?
Okay, but I decide who gets what.
Fine, but we've gotta be wary of traps.
- Wand of Orcus. - I don't...
What's going on?
- Give me a... I'm up to here with you. - Want to get the necromancer or not?
Do they like each other now?
Are you kidding me? They can't stand being in the same room.
I also don't think they can handle being apart.
And I think they just found a way to avoid doing either.
And that's the best most fathers and sons can do.
You've made me so proud today.
- Know where we can buy a real sword? - Oh, Jeffrey.
You're still at the entrance to the Chamber of Grief.
Your move, Mr. Tickles.
You successfully pour more tea into Count Frogula's cup.
That puts it at Hillary Rodham Kitten.
Okay, you attempt to pass crumpets.
You fail.
I'm getting frustrated. If you take a look at your inventories, you'll see...
Abed, are you almost done?
I can't sleep without my stuffies.
Fine. Hold on.
Oh, a goblin notices you and murders you all. You're dead.
They're all yours.