Fate interrupts.

“Oh fuck!” Brian, the IT major, loudly cries out in dread and shock in a most abrupt fashion.

In silence everyone stares at him waiting for the revelation.

“Isn't this last day for DMR's inventory sale?!” With dismay and near panic the party's paladin grieves. “I can't believe we forgot about it!”

“Oh shit! That's right!” David actually looks serious for once.

Saul looks at his watch, “If we leave immediately that will still give us about an hour.”

“Saul, I know it's not your turn, but you're the quickest and most efficient driver.” You nearly command as all the men stand at once with single mind and purpose. “For your sacrifice, I say we double the drive tax for this run.”

“Agreed.” All your guy friends nod in manly accord, knowing time is now of the essence.

“Wait?” Sandra looks about utterly confused. “What? We're stopping? Where are you going? We're not going to finish the story?”

“Hush girl!” David exclaims, in that crass cad like endearing way that only he can. “This is no time for the useless prattle and lamination of a woman, action is required.”

The perplexed buxom librarian science major looks over at her roommate, Vivian, for an answer.

The tall thin redhead shakes her head, “Boys,” she grumbles, “DMR is their favorite role-playing game store and one of their most beloved road-trips. To quote Star Wars, it's a 'wretched hive of scum and villainy.' A quarter of the books, half of the customers and most of the decorations are misogynistic filth but I have to admit the prices are decent and the selection is amazing.”

“Oh, I love shopping!” Sandra excitedly smiles. “Can I go?”

At that, you and your band of rpg-brothers look at each other with quiet discomfort that a female would defame this solemn quest as “shopping”, and then to dare to ask to join this sacred pilgrimage, let alone want to enter the inviolable temple of magnificent tomes.

Being the Game Master, it's your burden to explain to the novice. “Sandra, you're new to the game, and you're doing great. But, I don't think you're ready for DMR, it's rpg-culture at it's most ****.”

“But isn't Vivian going?” The brown-eyed beauty asks, clearly not understanding.

“I've been once and I'm still scared.” Vivian answers in a cold mocking voice, “Besides, I don't bother collecting the books and it's the boys special time together. They actually have rules for their 'warrior quest' road-trip.”

“Were not that crazy.” You disagree with the redhead, knowing she speaks the truth, but wanting to put on the best face for your newest, and very attractive, player you downplay your friends glorious obsession. “It's just not the right time to introduce you to such an challenging atmosphere.”

“What?” Sandra perplexingly asks. “Why?”

“Because you've got bigger tits than Viv.” David grins.

Closing your eyes you wince at Dave's quip as you hear Vivian throw an empty soda can at the comedian. “Num-nut pig-but” the feminist growls, “next time you take a piss I hope you get caught in the zipper.”

As the rogue and druid go at it like siblings you look at Sandra and quietly explain, “The place is probably going to be packed, and the clientele, shall we say, is not accustom to having any girl on the premises, let alone a pretty one. A petrification or polymorph saving throw for the stares might be needed,” you joke, “and the smell of the place will certainly require a save against paralyzation, poison, or **** magic.

“We don't have time for this.” Saul declares. “I am leaving, I will wait one minute once I get into my car, if you're not in, you're not going.”

“I accept this quest.” Sandra confident asserts and stands trying to join in, like a little sister who has no clue how out of place she sounds to her older brothers. However, as she walks by she gives you a playful smile, you hope over your subtle flirt - sneaking in that you think she is pretty. When those big warm brown eyes lock on to yours for a second you knees nearly crumple.

“You'll regret it, roomie.” Vivian flops down on your couch and picks up the TV remote. “Their all pigs. The lot of them”

“Not all of them.” You hear Sandra whisper to herself as you help her on with her coat after which the five of you make your way to Saul's 2014 blue Jetta.

“Should we let the novice take shotgun?” You ask with hesitation. Though wanting to be polite you're less than thrilled about putting Sandra up front next to Saul, who all though has a girlfriend does have a way with women.

“Fuck no.” David playful sneers. “The noob gets the middle. Besides I have things to discuss with the the Saul-man.”

Normally, being Saul's best friend you usually sit up front, but when Sandra willingly agrees to the middle-seat, explaining, “I'm the shortest” you don't argue.

Climbing in to the back with Sandra and Brian you sit behind Saul the driver with Sandra in the middle.

“I have never hard-core geeked before.” Sandra states, seemingly quite excited about this new experience, though your focus is watching her flowing brown hair rest on her left shoulder as she turns her head to you.

“Nah, were not really that geeky, we just like to joke around.” You answer.

“Gentlemen, the quest begins.” Saul states with all seriousness and then turns on the car's engine.

“Batteries to power, turbines to speed.” All the guys declare in perfect unison and then look at you when you don't join in.

“Batteries to power, turbines to speed.” You conform with the ancient ritual as Sandra cups her mouth trying to hold back a laugh.

“So,” David looks at Saul as the car heads out, “Our glorious GM has said he is open to running a new game in October. I think we should go with Cyberpunk.”

“Get fucked.” Saul looks over at his copilot. “It's October. It's Call of Cthulhu, nothing else.”

“No!” Brian leans to his left and forward inserting himself between the two in the front seats. “I want Traveller, the Mongoose edition.”

Your own thoughts on the subject quickly vanish as Sandra is **** to slide even closer to you in the small car. Twisting herself towards you to give the very animated Brian more room to join in with the conversation up front, her hand brushes across your knee as your hips press against each other.

“Damn, she smells amazing.” Is all you can now think as Sandra's focuses on you.

“What does 'DMR' mean anyways?” The comely coed asks.

“The story dates back to the late 1970's.” You try to answer without any hint of excitement. “It's amazing that it has lasted all these years. Originally, it was called 'the Dungeon Master's Rack' with a quite racy, or sexist, as Viv would say, logo. Larz, the owner, had to change it a few years back to get with the times. I think the official name is now something like 'Dragon Media Resources' but everyone calls it DMR.”

“What was the logo?” Sandra asks with an innocent and inquiring tone.

“It was a picture of a cartoon Game Master, or as they called them back in the day, a Dungeon Master, reading a book that was placed on a succubus' chest, who was tied to a medieval rack.” You answer with the best poker face you can muster. “It was the 1980's and Larz's was in his twenties.”

“Hmm.” Sandra ponders. “So which title do you prefer, 'Game Master' or 'Dungeon Master'?”