This is my monthly bulls$&% article. That means it isn’t advice and it isn’t new rules or new systems or anything actually usable or actionable. I mean, it is KIND OF actionable. That is, it’s about specific RPG issues that you might want to find ways to address in your game. But you have to do the hard work of actually addressing it. Because all I’m doing is thinking about the issue. But, because this is me, I’m thinking about the issue in a way you’ve probably never thought of. Or perhaps, I’m thinking about an issue you never thought was an issue. And because of that, it might also break your game. It might call attention to something you can never unsee. You have been warned.

On the other hand, although I have stopped explicitly saying it, you can assume that literally everything in this article can be prefaced with the phrase “if I were writing an RPG…” And I know that, whenever I say that, it gives people a glimmer of hope. For some reason.

The point is, this article is rated BS for bulls$&% by whoever the hell rates these sorts of things. Gamer discretion is advised.

Why Does the World Level with the PCs?

Among certain GMs – specifically those who favor “hex crawls” and “west marches” and “wide-open sandboxes” and other crap like that and who also have their heads lodged up their pretentious a$&es – among certain GMs, there is a phrase that is uttered with snickering derision. It’s a phrase meant to make fun of all of those GMs who are perfectly content to write one adventure at a time, as needed and as the directions of the campaign dictate. The phrase goes “and why should the world level with the PCs?”

It’s a stupid phrase. A stupid question. And it is not the question I set out to answer when I started thinking about the stuff I’m going to talk about once I get to the next header. But sometimes, as you work through a particular answer to something else, you discover that you’ve also answered other, totally unrelated questions.

The idea behind the world that levels with the PCs is that the whole point of a role-playing game is to provide an open-ended fantasy world that feels like a real-world and then the players should be able to explore wherever they wish. The world shouldn’t be tailor-made for the hero’s specific adventures. Thus, as a GM, you should map the entire world before the PCs even exist. Or at least, map a part of it. And you should decide where the dragon lairs and lich crypts and goblin caves and kobold lairs and abolethic ruins and all that other crap is. You don’t have to design every location to death at that point. But the world should exist as its own thing. Based on its own logic. And then the PCs should be free to explore it as they wish. And if the first-level PCs decide to wander down into the lich crypt or the dragon lair or whatever, well, that’s their problem. They need to figure out a way to deal with a foe too powerful for them to beat in a straight-up fight. Or they need to figure out a way to escape. Or they need to do some damned research or reconnaissance beforehand to figure out what lives in the cave before they go barging into it.

The alternative is that more standard campaign set up that wherever the PCs go, they find challenges appropriate to their level. The cave they wander into at third level will always have third-level monsters and third-level traps and third-level challenges and the treasures will be the sort of treasures that are perfect for third-level PCs. And then, when they hit fourth level, well, you get the picture.

And, of course, it’s this sort of s$&% that GMs go to war over. The problem is not the argument, it’s that the reason for the argument is really f$&%ing stupid.

The open-worlders argue that their world is more “realistic” or “versimilitudionous” or “ludocognitively consonant” or whatever. And the tailor-made-campaigners argue that it’s all just a game and those who sacrifice good gameplay for realism deserve neither or some s$&% like that. Both arguments are stupid. And the reason the arguments are stupid is that both sides are right.

The way RPGs are structured is utterly absurd. Especially when it comes to the arrangement of leveled challenges. And if you stop to think about it for any length of time, you will start to ask questions about why the villain positions his weakest guards nearest the entrances and his strongest guards in the f$&%ing cellars and attics. Which IS a problem. Because the central tenet of a TTRPG is that you – the player – should imagine the world is real, your character is real, and figure out what your character would do if presented with this real, actual situation. Some level of “realism” or “verisimilitude” is necessary to make role-playing work. Suspension of disbelief only goes so far.

On the other hand, if role-playing games don’t provide a satisfying and fun gameplay experience, why in Hell would ever play one? Flow theory and difficulty curves and pacing and tension and all of that crap; those aren’t things some game design wannabe came up with so he would have topics for his YouTube channel. They are actual patterns of design that are based on real human psychology. They are part of the wiring in our brain. Most people do not find a game fun when one wrong turn results in your character being crushed into red goo.

The real argument is about which of those two things is more important. And that answer varies from brain to brain and person to person and group to group. It’s a personal and subjective thing. And while you can have an intelligent discussion about the merits and flaws of both approaches and come away with a better understanding of how to find a compromise, you can’t do that s$&% on the Internet where everything is objective, binary, and worth killing for.

Meanwhile, what I want to know is whether the GMs on either side of this blood feud track encumbrance and rations and ammunition? Because that’s the real problem.

Picture if You Will

Yeah, that took a really strange turn, didn’t it? Well, I guess not if you read the title of this article which will probably mention encumbrance and rations and bookkeeping and s$&%. Probably. I don’t know. I haven’t come up with the title yet. I guess if I decide to do something really bizarre with the title then maybe that was a strange and surprising turn.

But, seriously, I ran into the problem of the world leveling with the PCs because of a conversation I recently had with a GMing friend of mine about something totally different. Actually, it was sort of related to the ammunition thing I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. Remember that? In it, I pointed out that without the limitation of tracking ammunition, ranged combat was infinitely better than melee combat. And, by the way, I’m not the only one to recognize that. Check out DM David’s discussion of the Sharpshooter Feat for another take. It’s a shame that neither of us works for Wizards of the Coast, isn’t it? Though DM David seems a lot more willing to let 5E off the hook for this s$&% whereas I just keep getting more annoyed with 5E as I keep looking at it. It really is the s$&%iest, most soulless game I’ve ever had tons of fun with.

ANYWAY…

Imagine this: you’re a player and you’ve just been invited to make a character for a one-shot adventure. You won’t have the chance to talk to the other players before the adventure, so you don’t know what anyone will be capable of. And this is what the GM tells you:

In this adventure, you and your fellow heroes are mounting an expedition to the Lost Pyramid of Xelthlethxlexthelxl to recover the fabulous treasures stored there. No one has ever managed to plunder the pyramid because it is deep in the heart of a blisteringly hot desert, about three weeks away from the nearest city, which is where you’ll be starting. There are no landmarks in the trackless desert; navigation is very difficult. Not only that, powerful sandstorms sometimes sweep through the area around the pyramid. Of course, inside the pyramid, you’ll find all sorts of terrible monsters and traps and things. Apart from the extra starting money I’ve given you to outfit your character with level-appropriate magical items, the entire party will be given a pool of gold to share to outfit the expedition.

Now, you like to be prepared. So, after you create and equip your character, you start thinking about how the party should spend the expedition fund. Since you don’t know what any of the other characters will be able to do and since you have made a fighter with no useful skills at all, you want to make sure that you think about all the things the party might need to prepare for the expedition.

So, go ahead. Take a minute and think about it. What stuff do you need? What problems does the party, as a whole, need to overcome? And how can you use the party fund to overcome them?

I’ll wait.

Seriously. Think about it.

It’s kind of fun.

Are you done? Okay.

So, now imagine this: you gather together with your fellow players and the GM for the introductory session. You have a nice list of all the things you thought about. You need plenty of food and water. And that stuff is going to be heavy. So, you need camels to carry the burden. And you need drivers for the camels because you don’t know if anyone in the party can handle that. And you’ll need plenty of extra camels with extra sacks to carry back the treasure. And all of the camels and drivers need food and water. And you’ll need desert appropriate clothing. And masks and spell-punk style googles. And tents. And plenty of firewood because the desert gets cold at night. And you’ll need a guide. Someone who knows the desert. And as you start rattling off the list to the party, the GM stops you and says, “oh, I don’t want to worry about any of that. You can just start off at the pyramid.”

In most states, it would be legal to kill your GM at that point.

Now, I understand that, to some of you, all of that stuff about food and water and camels and things probably sounds really tedious. Like, who wants to worry about all of that crap. You just want to plunder the damned pyramid. Of course, to some of you, that sounds like a really fun challenge. It isn’t just about combat. It’s about planning and thinking through a problem and using your resources to fund a real-feeling expedition to a distant and very hard to reach place. And, of course, it also makes it totally understandable that no one has ever managed to plunder the pyramid. The sheer amount of resources required make it very costly to mount an expedition. And given the risks involved, only the bravest of and most accomplished adventurers would dare try to plunder the pyramid. So, it’s the sort of thing that only very rich, very accomplished heroes would do.

In other words, the pyramid is a 15th-level dungeon because only 15th-level heroes could even make the trip. And if you’re not a 15th-level hero, you’d never even make it there. You can’t even afford the resources.

A Level by Any Other Name

Here’s the thing: all of the things that make a 15th-level hero different from a first-level hero in D&D have fallen by the wayside over the years and editions. The only difference between them now is their combat ability. I mean, Hell, the skill progression has even been smoothed and flattened. And magic items have become totally optional. And cash has become totally worthless. These aren’t new issues. At least, not on this site. I’ve talked about them all before.

And this is particularly sad because D&D 5E claims to be equally about combat, interaction, and exploration. But, for the most part, the only level progression in the game is combat. Most characters just don’t get any better at interaction and exploration. Except for the linear and shallow progression of Proficiency Bonus. Characters don’t even gain NEW skills as they level unless they waste feats on that s$&%. And I’m not even sure that’s a thing. I might have made that up. Can you gain proficiency in a previous untrained skill? I don’t feel like looking it up.

As a GM, it’s actually quite hard to create a location in the world that a group of dedicated PCs couldn’t reach until they attained a certain level. Short of making it a flying location. And you can only have so many flying castles. The only way to truly make a location feel inaccessible to low-level, weaker parties is to put a powerful monster in front of it to kill parties who aren’t up to the Challenge Rating. And believe me, you can only do that once or twice before the players get sick of it.

But so what? Why should an area of the game be inaccessible? For the same reason fireball is a third-level spell.

Let me use an example. Let me talk about World of Warcraft. WoW is a big, online world. And it takes a long time to get from one spot to another. And some areas are actually really hard to reach. Now, there was a fast-travel system that basically amounts to commuter planes ferrying heroes from one city to the next. And I say “was” because I haven’t played WoW in a lot of years and I have no idea what Blizzard is doing now that they are actively trying to compete with EA for “most hated video game company of the year.” But that was also slow. And it only lets you move to and from specific locations. Locations you’d already found.

But once you hit a certain level, you could obtain a mount. An animal – or motorcycle because it’s Warcraft – you could ride overland. It let you cover distances much more quickly. And go wherever you wanted. Well, mostly. Anywhere on land. But it was still time-consuming. And then, eventually, you’d earn your flying mount. Basically, it was a flying animal – or gyrocopter *sigh* – that you could ride practically anywhere. And, let me tell you something: that felt really awesome. As did the fact that certain classes could teleport you to and from specific locations.

The point was it made you feel more powerful in a way that wasn’t just about how big the numbers were that popped out of the heads of the monsters you smacked with your sword. It made it feel like you were conquering the world.

The same is true in many fantasy role-playing video games that don’t ruin themselves with freely available fast travel from the beginning. I’ve talked before about the vehicle progression in old Final Fantasy and Dragon Warrior games where you move from walking to rafting along rivers to sailing ships to flying airships to piloting spacecraft to the moon. With each new vehicle, more of the world was in your reach. And, eventually, traveling was safe. Usually, the best vehicle also came with blanket immunity to wandering monsters.

This s$&% felt cool. It felt like you were more than just a set of gradually increasing numbers that were constantly getting into fights with other numbers that were always just about the same as you. And it also made the fact that certain locations were filled with more dangerous foes more organic. Of course, this area is filled with more dangerous monsters. It’s more remote. More removed from civilization. See, powerful monsters that are a danger to civilization can only live for so long right down the street. Eventually, a group of heroes or an army led by a noble lord will wander in and take them down. Because the World and the Underworld are at war with each other.

That’s also why it’s such a big deal with a truly powerful dragon shows up in civilized lands. Or when a vampire lives among humans and starts letting his undead play in the streets. It’s also why dragons pick remote villages and vampires pretend to be perfectly innocent noble lords. Because they know that they actually ARE outmatched against a powerful enough army or mob.

Progression is Born of Restriction

If the players can go anywhere and do anything, then nothing feels special. And if nothing feels special, there’s nothing to reward players with.

Once upon a time, one of the most sought-after magical items in D&D was the simple bag of holding. Yep, a magical sack that was way bigger on the inside and always weighed the same regardless of how many tons of crap you stuffed into it. And the reason it was so beloved was that it represented that moment when encumbrance was no longer a problem.

Of course, that doesn’t mean much anymore. Encumbrance isn’t really a big restriction in D&D. You can carry all the equipment you want. And the penalties for being encumbered are really minor. And most GMs and most players don’t even bother tracking it. Which effectively means everyone now has a bag of holding. They start play with it.

Of course, one of the biggest things that really weighed you down was all of the supplies you needed to adventure. Torches and rations and waterskins. Consumable supplies that lit your way and kept you fed and hydrated. And the ability to carry that stuff was important because the amount of food you could carry determined how far you could go in the wilderness. And how long you could last out there before you had to come home. And the number of torches and vials of lantern oil you could carry determined how much time you could spend delving in the dungeon before you had to resupply.

Well, first-level spellcasters can just create as much food and water as they want. Or purify spoiled food. Not that foraging is particularly difficult. You can just gather enough food to feed your party while you travel. And, if you’re a ranger, you don’t even need to roll a die. And light is a freely usable cantrip. Mounts and beasts of burden are cheap. And can be magically conjured at fairly low levels. Ammunition can be recovered after every battle. But that doesn’t matter because encumbrance isn’t a thing so you can carry as many arrows as you want. And on and on and on it goes.

All this s$&% – encumbrance, rations, light sources, mounts – they all put obstacles in the way of low-level parties. Obstacles that would gradually fall away as the party became better adventurers and had access to more resources. But here’s the wacky thing. These things all still exist in the game. But they’ve gradually been trivialized to the point where they really don’t matter much and players have easy ways around every obstacle. And while I know that part of the reason is that many GMs just chose to ignore the systems, I am sure a large part of it is also that the game designers listen to the players a little too much and players don’t know what’s good for them.

It’d Also Be Cool if I Could Shoot Lasers from My Eyes

I know this stuff sucks to keep track of. I know it’s a pain in the a$& to track encumbrance and rations and light sources and stuff. And, as a player, I don’t want to do any of that. It’s bookkeeping and paperwork and math. It’s not fun. And I don’t want to do anything not fun.

But what’s funny is that if I – as a player – said I’d like to be immune to damage and I’d like to automatically gain a level every session and I’d like to have a lightsaber instead of a longsword, a smart GM – or game designer – would laugh in my face and then slap me once he realized I was actually not joking.

See, choices – meaningful choices – are born of two things: risk and conflict. And risk and conflict arise because someone can’t have everything they want. They have to choose between the things they want or they have to risk something valuable to get what they want. That s$&% is what makes the game exciting. For most people. Some people just want to show off their snowflake character and their account on FanFiction.net got suspended because they used a naughty word. But I don’t let those people play at my table. Because they only entertain themselves.

The point is if you want to design a game that provides long-term satisfaction – that feels BETTER the longer you play it – you absolutely never ask the player to help you. Because players can’t see past the current moment. Which is why if I were writing an RPG, I would never, ever design major game features in an open playtest. That’d be a surefire way to get a game that just sort of provides the same level of bland, shallow, showoff fun at every level and has no growth or heart or soul to it.

Whoopsie.

The point is restrictions and limitations drive meaningful choices. They drive risks and conflicts. And they provide a sense of growth and progression. If you take away the restrictions and limitations, you’ve got nothing to grow beyond. You just have a treadmill of shallow advancement made of bigger numbers and showy special effects.

Some Things You Have to Opt Out Of

All of that said, I will also admit that some groups and some players and some games don’t need or want this crap. They are just playing “look how awesome I am; I saw this on Critical Role” kind of fanfic crap. Or they are playing beer-and-pretzels Diablo-esque “now explore THIS dungeon” kind of thing. Or they are just one-shots. Or con games. Or whatever. And that is totally fine. Seriously. For all of my sarcasm, I really do admit that everything I’m talking about is about making campaign-style play as exciting and satisfying as possible.

The problem is figuring out whether a system that will improve one style of gameplay significantly is better served as an opt-in thing or an opt-out thing. And that usually comes down to whether it lays over the top of the system or whether it needs a foundation within the system. And also whether one option undermines the other.

Take the bookkeeping crap I’m talking about here. Things like travel time, food, water, encumbrance, light sources, and ammunition. Basically, expendable supplies and resources that put limits on how far the characters can explore and what it costs them to do so. That s$&% is definitely easy to ignore if it’s in the game. Because some people have been ignoring that crap for years and years. “I don’t trap rations” or “do we need to add up encumbrance” are running jokes that a lot of gaming comic artists have gotten a lot of mileage out of. If a GM wants to ignore that crap, they can. Or they can pay lip service to it. The GM can just add a patron to a one-shot adventure who outfits the party with “enough food and water and basic supplies to cover the journey.” So, this is easy to opt out of if the stuff underlies the system.

But what about opting in if the stuff is missing? I could point out that if there’s no encumbrance system, then the GM has to develop one. And then develop modifiers based on what it means to be encumbered. And then attach weights and bulks to literally every item that exists. And carrying capacities for every creature. And work out things like containers and stuff. And that’s a pain in the a$&. It’s really hard to opt into.

But that’s not the case with D&D anyway, is it? D&D – the current version – does have an encumbrance system. I mean, the penalties are extremely minor and it is highly permissive. But it is there. It just doesn’t really accomplish anything. I mean, the PHB even says that the basic encumbrance limit is high enough that most characters will never have to worry about it. The more complex “variant system” does lower the basic somewhat, but the penalty for what might be considered the “normal” range for a heavily laden character is a speed reduction of 10 feet.

Now, here’s the funny thing about that speed reduction. It’s a silly, useless restriction. Because any smart character is going to drop their backpack as a free action as soon as a fight breaks out. And tactical speed – speed in combat rounds – has NO EFFECT on the speed of overland travel in the basic rules. None. And that’s just crazy. Honestly, I’d be more inclined to assume people are going to drop their packs – or leave most of their gear at their camp when they go into a dungeon – and stick the penalties for encumbrance on the overland travel side. I’d also key it on Constitution since encumbrance and travel are less about how much you can lift, bro, and a lot more about how many hours you can carry an evenly distributed weight that is strapped around your body without getting exhausted.

But that’s just crazy uncle Angry screaming at clouds from his basement room again.

Point is, the encumbrance system is so insignificant that it might as well not be there – even if you use the optional rules – and it affects precisely the wrong things. And that leads GMs to conclude – either on a straight read of it or after playing with it for a bit – that it’s not even worth having in the game. If most characters can carry so much weight that they never have to worry about it, WHY HAVE THE F$&%ING SYSTEM AT ALL?!

But it’s not bad enough that the game gives you a system that’s no system at all. The game also undermines this s$&% at every turn. Take food and water, for example. Let’s say I am one of those GMs who wants to opt into food and water and encumbrance. And let’s say I do take the time to rejigger encumbrance so people can’t carry all the food they’d ever want. Or strand my PCs in the wilderness. What do I discover? I discover how easy it is for first level characters to just conjure all the food and water they need out of the environment with no cost at all. Foraging is stupid-easy. An untrained character might miss a foraging check every few days, but you can also go a few days without food, so you don’t actually need to make foraging checks every day. And you can do it on the go. And there’s not much else to do while traveling. Once you assign one navigator and one lookout, you’ve got two or three other characters just walking gormlessly along with the party, whistling to themselves and wondering what to do. So, you have one backup lookout and you have one or two foragers. And that’s it. Fed forever.

And that’s not even to add on easily accessible spells with trivial resource costs. One first level spell slot is not actually a major loss during overland travel because the party rarely has to get through the requisite four to six encounters a day while they are crossing the countryside. Most GMs prefer to have less than one encounter a day just to make the overland travel go by faster.

And then they wonder why the hell the game doesn’t feel exploratory…

The point is, while this stuff supports one particular style of gameplay more than others – extended campaign play – that style is one that is centered around one of the so-called THREE PILLARS OF THE DUNGEONS & DRAGONS GAME EXPERIENCE. Right? Combat, exploration, and interaction. Well, what interesting choices actually are there left in exploration when the party can just ignore everything that might place constraints on them? None.

And the game makes it too easy to ignore that s$&%. So even if I do try to opt in, the game and the players will opt me the hell right back out. It’s bad enough I have to write my own rules, please don’t undermine me with the existing rules.

A Better Solution

So, what’s the solution? Well, there really isn’t a good one, is there? Not for D&D. D&D is too far gone. And the more I look at 5E, the more I get disappointed with everything outside the combat engine. Because so much of D&D is rules and systems that affect nothing. Or systems that were included because someone would have been mad if they weren’t, but were then neutered because the game designers didn’t want to do anything with them. Obviously, encumbrance falls into this category. And the starvation and dehydration rules in the DMG will never, EVER come up for any party unless the GM starts sabotaging the PCs to get them to starve. But then there’s the Identify spell. What the hell good does it do when you can fondle a magic item through a freely available short rest and know everything about it? You can even tell a magic item just by brushing against it. Alignment? Why is that still there? I mean, you have Bonds and Personality and Ideals and Flaws to fill the gap of how you intend to play your character. Not that anyone even remembers the Inspiration system exists because of how vestigial it is, how disconnected from the rest of the game. The spells and abilities that used to let you detect alignments are now just spells and abilities that let you sense if there’s an undead or a devil nearby. And, I’d like to point out, I called this. Cantrips, rituals, and all the nonsense about expending slots but not losing spells clearly show that the designers just don’t want Vancian magic to be a thing anymore. And I can understand that. It’s a s$&% way of balancing things. But the solution wasn’t “well, we’ll just keep a sort of pseudo-Vancian magic, but we’ll declaw it.” And what the hell is the point of a ritual taking ten minutes when the passage of time means nothing? Just make ritual spells free to cast and call it a day.

I’m ranting again. Sorry.

What would my ideal system for all of this crap look like? Well, let me start by saying I agree the edge has to be taken off the bookkeeping. Bookkeeping isn’t fun. And it can get onerous. Adding up individual pounds of weight for everything you pick up and put down during play just isn’t fun. And yes, I know a lot of people use technology to do the hard lifting of maintaining a character now, but lots of people also don’t and the game – and your brain – are better off if you can put your f$&%ing screen down for ten minutes. So, you have to design tracking systems that work for human beings. But that’s only half the problem.

Next, you have to build space into the game for these systems so the game doesn’t undermine them. You need to build progressions into the game outside of combat that define what’s possible at different tiers of play. And align all abilities to those tiers. So, for the encumbrance tier, you decide the level at which encumbrance should be a non-issue. Maybe that’s heroic tier or level 10 or whatever. It doesn’t matter when it happens. But, at that level, that’s when spells like Lenny’s mystical, magical chest become available to wizards and also the tier at which bags of holding everything and Konway’s konvenient knapsack become available. You decide the issue at which overland travel has to speed up. And that’s the level at which PCs will have enough treasure to afford mounts for everyone and also the level at which paladins can summon warhorses and necromancers can conjure zombie horses.

In short, you decide all of the various things that will be obstacles to exploration – food, water, travel time, encumbrance, light, and so on – and then build abilities and treasures into the system that gradually allow players to mitigate them. And you building several ways to mitigate each into the system. So, maybe at level 5, the party can’t get lost in the wilderness anymore. Navigation is just not an issue anymore. So, that’s the level at which the ranger gets the Never Lost ability. And the level at which the Expert Navigator feat becomes available to anyone with the Survival skill. And the level when know direction spell becomes available to clerics and druids. And the level at which the party can employ an NPC guide. And the level at which the sextant of accuracy appears on the random treasure lists.

And – and this is the really important part – TELL THE F$&%ING GM ABOUT THESE PROGRESSIONS!

And not only that, but you also tell the GM that they can remove any of those issues from the game and how to do it. Tell them why they shouldn’t if they want to run a good, exploration-based campaign, sure. But then, tell the GM that they can pull encumbrance out or food and water or travel time and gloss it all over. But also tell the GM that they should decide that s$&% up front and tell the players. That way, the ranger doesn’t waste resources on the Never Lost ability. And the cleric never bothers learning know direction.

Basically, what I’m saying is that I’d like to see a game where the designers decide what the hell their pillars of play are, build progressions around each, and then decide what alternate styles of play they also want to support, figure out which progressions should come out of the game for that, and explain all of this s$&% to the GM.

Look, our game is really about three things: combat, exploration, and social interaction. And that’s we have the combat engine, the supplies and encumbrance rules, and the reputation track. If you want to remove one of those aspects – say you’re running a dungeon of the week game and just need combat – ignore the supplies, encumbrance, and reputation systems. Just make sure you tell your players so that they won’t choose skills or feats or abilities that interact with those systems. Cool?

Something like that.

But, once again, this is just crazy old uncle Angry ranting away. And as long as you let him do it once a month, he’ll keep dishing out useful content the rest of the time. It’s not like crazy uncle Angry will ever do something with this s$&%. It’s not like he has plans. Now, go away.

It’s time for uncle Angry to watch his stories.