Cash in the Attic (The Eye of the Buddha, Part 3) New Photos Added

[pauld]

Stout work old bean.  Rummy good yarn.

Sad the old hound popped his clogs but Scrotum is a sly old blighter and no mistake (my money is on him, in the Library with the Lead Piping by the way).

So finish hoovering up the scoff, knock off that snifter of sauce and get back to the old plot, what.

Perfect piffle and more fun than a frisky ferret ensconced in the plus fours.

Pip Pip

[Valerik]

Sad really...

Quite inexplicable.

All those lovely minis, stunning toys, ripping corse...  er... yarns, brilliant venue, smashing scenery, pretty pictures, witty dialogue  & Mad Lord Snapcase STILL needs a pork chop...

Ah brings it roight back, dunnit?

Days of me youph!!!

When me Mum'd tie a noice bit o'brisket, or a chop,p'rhaps a drumstck 'round me neck so's the dog'd play wiff me...

Gentlemen of Englad, I charge you:  
FIND a solution to this problem.
Must Mad Lord Snapcase be permitted to play with himself?
Should he not share?  The venue, I mean the VENUE, of course.
Tis not fair, a man should graciously throw open his home, and wine cellar, to allow others the opportunity to beat him on his home turf.

I mean it's DEVON, not the end of the world.  Just next to it is all...

[mikedemana]

I certainly can't match pauld's wonderful "English-isms", but I echo the sentiment! I love the story telling going on here, my friend! So entertaining. And fills a hole, so to speak, with my own game being canceled due to the weather. I know that I'd be showing up at Snapcase Hall if I were in Devon. Though that does remind me of the time I spent the night as the only guest in a sprawling, Cornish B&B, run by a slightly creep old lady...

Mike Demana

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

Fellow LAFers, thanks for your kind comments and of course you would all be welcome at Snapcase Hall for a game of Pulp Alley and a tooth mug of potable palliative! (I do mean that so if you are ever in the vicinity of Devon, please PM me for a visit, I would enjoy your company).

Sad the old hound popped his clogs

Sad I agree, the old dog may be out of this game but Chulmleigh will be back in future games.

So finish hoovering up the scoff, knock off that snifter of sauce and get back to the old plot, what.

Scoff hoovered, snifter knocked off and the concluding three turns should be on here by the weekend!

Must Mad Lord Snapcase be permitted to play with himself?

Well, I think perhaps on occasion, mind wanders........................

Tis not fair, a man should graciously throw open his home, and wine cellar, to allow others the opportunity to beat him on his home turf.

I know that I'd be showing up at Snapcase Hall if I were in Devon

Valerik, mikedemana, pauld et al you would all be very welcome chez moi, see my opening statement.

I spent the night as the only guest in a sprawling, Cornish B&B, run by a slightly creep old lady...

All Cornish B&Bs are run by slightly creepy old ladies, it's the law down there in Kernow. There is often an exchange of gunfire over the Devon/Cornwall border when the long-running dispute about who invented the pasty heats up again!  

Toodle Pip!

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more”, these stirring words ran through Snapcase’s head as he and the family finally took the initiative in what had been a very surprising day. The blood had been summoned and the sinews had definitely been stiffened as Snapcase had pasted a roundhouse on Gussie Finknottle’s boat-race! The Snapcase’s had always responded well to the clarion call of “Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!” The Mad Lord realised it was the 25th October and on that day (St Crispin’s) many years ago in 1415, a young squire by the name of Arthur Wooster-Snapcase had won his spurs on the field of battle, starting the great houses of Wooster and Snapcase. The vastly obese Duke of York had toppled from his horse after eating all the pasties. The Duke of Alençon was claiming the kill and young Art was having none of that, armed only with a sharp stick (having lost his sword in a game of vingt-et-un the night before) he poked the noble French Duke in the eye before the startled gaze of the King and His Majesty having great need of eccentric gentlemen promptly knighted him there and then!



Meanwhile back at the Hall, things were definitely starting to come to the boil. With the Snapcase contingent in the driving seat, Old Scrotum (he of the fish-fed brain) now lit the fuse on a bottle of Richard Hennessy Cognac and proceeded to enliven the festivities with another conflagration centred on von Toptotty, Patty and Bud. As old Scrotum lobbed his exploding cocktail the Gräfin played a Fortune card, Distraction and the aged family retainer was down 1D on might, cunning and finesse for the rest of that turn. Unfortunately, the centuries old oak-panelling was now aflame (not to mention full of bullet holes) and the smoke was billowing about the hallway.



The brave Bonnie Wooster moved out of Count Yuri Pissinmeov’s line of fire so she could get a shot at Countess Ripya Korzetov. In the exchange of gunfire, Bonnie is hit and goes down, Ripya is also hit and her health die drops. Captain Mainwaring points his Webley service revolver at Count Yuri but misses due to his ‘gig-lamps’ being fogged up from the smoke. Pissinmeov has no such trouble and the gallant Captain drops to the floor wounded.



With a mighty roll of the dice I managed to activate one of my nasty surprises, the two suits of armour which were guarding the door, come to life as defenders of Snapcase Hall, a sphincter-tightening moment for Cholmondely-Warner and his colleague ‘Barmy’ Fotheringay-Phipps (serves him right for not keeping in touch with his Oklahoma cousins!).



With a mighty leap, Snapcase is up on the table grabbing hold of the Ark. Unfortunately, all those pasties, cream scones and cider have added somewhat to the old plimsoll-line and the table collapses under the strain. By dint of great athletic prowess, the Mad Lord and La Sorella di Lavanda manage to make several rolls versus peril and actually pick up the Ark of the Covenant! So far, no melting faces! The Ark is quite heavy and reduces their run distance to 8”.



Three random cards are drawn from the deck for the Gräfin, Patty O’Furniture and Bud Wiser.



All three fail their challenges and Patty and Bud drop to the ground asphyxiated by the smoke and von Toptotty’s health die drops by one.



The archaeologists have played ‘Warmed Up’ and will suffer no penalties for multiple combats in this turn (much good will it do them!). Cholmondley-Warner and Fotheringay-Phipps are down. Gussie charges forward and manages to knock down a suit of armour.



Now this sprawling melee gets even more complicated. Ripya charges Old Scrotum (a man of his age indulging in fisticuffs with a voluptuous Russian Countess, oh if only....) and they tussle with no apparent advantage to either. Pissinmeov tries to jump over the apparently lifeless form of Chulmleigh the mad bulldog (aaahh, poor old Chulmleigh I hear you sigh) but misjudges his footing and goes sprawling on his kisser. Karl Bunkle and Jack Boot finally dash into the hallway to be met with a scene of devastation. They pick on the nearest target and shoot the Countess Korzetov in the back (health dice down to 6 now) as she struggles with Old Scrotum. We have forgotten Kapitein Aard B’Astard but he now belatedly realises his Gräfin needs him and he descends the tower at a rush but is still outside at this point. The Gräfin is suffering from smoke inhalation and has to move away from the vicinity of Old Scrotum’s improvised Molotov cocktail. She decides to try and halt the departure of the Ark and rugby tackles La Sorella. Once again, there are bodies all over the place, dropping like bloomers at a Prince of Wales soiree. Some of them are showing signs of recovery at the end of the turn and there is obviously more gratuitous violence to follow.



Will the bikini-clad beauty triumph against the rather stout nun (more pasties and cream teas) in the lavender habit? Will Snapcase finally cash in his Cash in the Attic? A rather cheeky end to turn 4. That’s all for now folks, more to follow when I get my breathe back!

Toodle pip!

[mikedemana]

Simply awesome! To paraphrase Apocalypse Now: "The humor...the humor..."

Mike Demana

[FramFramson]

That was one turn!?

[Dr Mathias]

This is a very enjoyable thread

[FramFramson]

So what was the game mechanism that cause the armoured suits to come to life? A player character ability? Or was that something you wrote into the scenario?

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

So what was the game mechanism that cause the armoured suits to come to life? A player character ability? Or was that something you wrote into the scenario?

I had written into the scenario that the suits would animate during Turn 3 or later if the Hall was under attack. The suits needed a simple success throw on a D6 which they failed in Turn 3 but made their roll in Turn 4.

Apparently, they were installed by the 9th Earl after frequent visits from members of the Licensed Victuallers Association demanding redress for their unpaid bills. What with these animated suits, a supply of ammunition for the elephant guns in the gun case  and a predilection for mad Bulldogs, Snapcase Hall was rendered pretty much unassailable to the local tradesmen who were wont to visit on the off chance that the Earl was flush with the folding stuff that week!

That was one turn!?

Yes, it did seem like rather a long turn with a lot happening but there were 19 miniatures in the game, although one was still outside and two were KO'ed from the previous turns. Turn 5 to follow in another dramatic episode at Snapcase Hall, tune in tomorrow (or perhaps the day after!).

[d phipps]

Wow, another wonderful story from Ol' Snappy!

And saucy. Saucy, I say!




THANKS

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

Wow, another wonderful story from Ol' Snappy!

And saucy. Saucy, I say!




THANKS

Thanks, Dave. I do like a bit of sauce! I am working on posting up the last two turns here. Once that's done it's on to another game.

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

We left our hero trying to make a slick getaway with the old Ark, don’t you know! To cries of “Push on, Snappy, push on you old duffer!” the Mad Lord tried to make himself scarce with the Ark. He hadn’t run so fast since he’d pinched that policeman’s helmet on boat-race night.



Remembering the family motto Laborare Non Amo, Snapcase dearly wished to cash in this little trinket to avoid the workhouse and its attendant miseries i.e. no booze constantly to hand and no staff to wait upon him hand and foot! La Sorella di Lavanda was helping him abscond with the Ark but she’d been rugby-tackled by the Gräfin. Snapcase had nearly gone arse over breakfast but had managed to keep a grip on the Ark whilst making a leap from the hall into the next room.



Lavanda was definitely getting the worst of it as von Toptotty dished out a good pummelling. The rotund nun was still upright though and game as a badger, after a couple of good dice throws.



Old Scrotum is still in contact with Ripya Korzetov. “Madame, I must warn you I have a black-belt in origami and silver-polishing”! Nevertheless, even taking into account Old Scrotum’s martial prowess, the lusty Countess is having the best of it, lashing out with a deadly jab which the aged retainer can only just dodge. Bonnie is toe-to-toe with Karl Bunkle and decks him with a knee to the family jewels. Just then Aard arrives, out of breath after running from the tower and shoots at Bonnie, they both go down, wounded. Pissinmiov finally manages to extricate himself from the unconscious form of Chulmleigh, the loyal but lunatic bulldog and jumps into the fray. Across the other side of the smoke filled hallway, Gussie Finknottle manages to avenge his comrades and sends the second suit of armour crashing to the floor.



Patty O’Furniture had briefly considered helping her leader in the fight against the portly Sister of God but decided her best chance for glory was to chase Snapcase. As she ran into the room, Snapcase drew his Mauser, Patty flourished her Parabellum (ooh, errr, missus) and after an exchange of shots, Patty was slumped against the wall whilst the Mad Lord was untouched. As Turn 5 drew to a close, Bunkle, Aard B’Astard, Bonnie and the suit of armour all looked as if they might recover in time to participate in the dramatic conclusion of this tour de force of a punch-up at Snapcase Hall.



When writing the scenario, I had decided to offer several means of escape for any league which snatched the Ark. There was the Marie Anne, moored in the river and left unguarded.



The Curtiss R3C-0 is a red herring as the 9th Earl had sold some of the crucial parts, such as the propeller, making it unusable. The 10th Earl is hoping to restore it to take part in future games!



The Mad Lord’s 4½ litre Bentley was parked outside along with Bonnie’s roadster. Although……….



……….escaping by road meant having to traverse the extreme peril of the Weeping Angel statues.



There was also the family Duesenberg Town Car, parked outside the stately pile.






But a shrill whistle and a familiar chuff-chuff may present an alternative escape route for those daring enough to risk all at the denouement of the game. The 17.11 goods train from Much-Piddling, calling at Trumpton, Camberwick Green and Market Snodsbury emerges from under the railway bridge. As usual Jones the Steam was driving the Titfield Thunderbolt and Mrs. Porty, the owner of the railway was on board for her customary inspection of the line (stopping at all hostelries en route). They had stopped at the Cock Dropper’s Arms for their usual pick-me-up of a large glass of Warre’s Warrior Port and Jones the Steam was leaning on the whistle, giving it the old heave-ho!



Snapcase had to pass another peril as he emerged into the sunlight of a warm October evening. The brewer’s dray (sorry, didn’t have time to paint it) had just arrived to deliver his beer and it was almost a disaster as he tried to sidestep the mighty hooves of the Shire horses. The drayman was less than happy, shouting curses at the Mad Lord as he tried to control his horses, “upper-class twit”, “chinless wonder” and “hooray henry” being amongst his choicest epithets! Snapcase was only able to utter a quick "Bugger off, oik!" as his attention was elsewhere.



von Toptotty had managed to finally knock Lavanda out and had dashed off in hot pursuit of the Mad Lord. Aard, discovering he had only been wounded in the shoulder followed as fast as he could. Unfortunately for the Gräfin Marie Anne von Toptotty, the brewer’s dray was now blocking her exit in pursuit of the portly Earl. Kapitein Aard B’Astard was hard on her heels but to no avail in what was rapidly turning into a French bedroom farce.



Meanwhile, back in the hall, its chaos! After all the brawling was resolved, there were only three men standing (well, two men and a rather voluptuous Russian Countess). Gussie Finknottle was leaning against the wall amidst the bodies of his fellow archaeologists, wondering why he’d signed up for this rather dangerous mission. Old Scrotum and the Countess were still locked in combat and, much to his credit, Old Scrotum had still not dropped his drinks tray. And that my friends (as you will no doubt be pleased to hear after this overlong gallop) is how we will leave Snapcase Hall and it only remains to be seen whether the Mad Lord will make his escape or be crushed under the pounding wheels of the Titfield Thunderbolt.



As the Thunderbolt disappears into the tunnel heading for Trumpton, Willard Cornelius Waterloo Clarence Wooster, or as we know him, dear readers, the Mad Lord steadies himself for the jump of a lifetime. This will be three successes against any skill and Snapcase’s heart is beating like a steam-hammer.



Snapcase takes the appearance of a Bass wagon as a good omen and takes a mighty leap of faith, clutching the Ark to his ample girth. With 3D12 for shooting, the Earl succeeds in landing in the speeding goods wagon, although suffering from an unfortunate loss of vertical condition as a result of diminished co-ordination, or arse over elbow, you might say.



His monocle pops out of his eye, he’s crushed his hip flask in his back trouser pocket but it’s all to the good as Robert’s his fraternal sibling, as again you might say! Secure at last in the Bass wagon, with no fear of immediate pursuit, the Earl lights up a Double Corona and enjoys the ride.
No doubt, dear readers, you can see light at the end of the tunnel now as the adventure’s nearly done!



Our tale now draws to a natural end. Snapcase Hall is in flames and bodies litter the ancestral pile. As Mad Lord Snapcase heads for the Emsworth Arms in Market Snodsbury (and then who knows where), it’s approaching Sunday lunchtime here in blighty and I’m bound for the Cock Dropper’s Arms for a stiffening libation or two, followed by a visit to the Drones Club. ‘Boko’ Fittleworth, ‘Catsmeat’ Potter-Purbright and ‘Stilton’ Cheeswright are battling it out for the annual Drones Club Darts Championship and I’ve got a fiver that says ‘Catsmeat’ will emerge the victor!

“Toodle oo!”

[mikedemana]

Awesome, cinematic conclusion! Loved it...found myself pulling for the Mad Lord as he leapt for the rail car...

Mike Demana

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

Thanks Mike, I have to say I felt the same way when I saw how the game was going. I really wanted him to make that roll and pootle off into the sunset smoking his cigar! Pulp Alley rules just seems to make the game go the way it should. How's the snow at your end?