HoL- Human Occupied Landfill

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HoL- Human Occupied Landfill

Post by jigglypuff69 » Thu Jan 12, 2012 10:39 pm

HOL (Human Occupied Landfill)


His Other Leg, Harmoniously Orchestrated Lambada, Huge Overfed Leeches, Hienous Old Linguista, Hemhorraging Oral Libido, Hey, Oww! Leggo!!!, Hairy Odious Leftovers, etc...

What is HoL? Ever been to New Jersey? Okay, now add some high technology and make a planet out of it. HoL is the New Jersey* of the Confederation of Worlds (COW).

* My Mother is from New Jersey, so no real hurt feelings are meant...

Yes, for in the future, the Galaxy is fully colonized and sub-let, and the COW, governing jointly with The Church has designated a small, once green world to be the Galactic trash bin. And, as it turns out, it happens to be a pretty handy place to dump shiploads of raving, murderous, pedophillic, sociopathic, genocidic, anti-establishmentalist, drooling psychos bent on stuffing old ladies into wood-chippers, as well as a good number of excess accountants.

Generally, your characters will NOT be accountants.

The Confederation itself is pretty wicked big. In fact, it's soooooo pretty wicked big, that if it weren't for the faster-than-light ability given to us by the Jumpslugs, inhabitants on the Spinward Frontier would still think that bellbottoms and butterfly collars are coll ideas. (No offense to those on Travolta IV, the Disco Planet.) The point being that there are practically a infinite number of worlds to adventure on, destroy, exploit, enslave, own franchises upon (As the great entrepeneur Grith Jizbag's Bucket O' Weenies resturant chain, the only one to shake the firm ground upon which Church & Munch locked it's talons). Though your characters have meager beginings, that is no reason to believe that they couldn't become antoher Grith Jizbag! It is that innate seed of hope that sets the occupants of HoL apart from the teeming masses of the Confederation.

So, how is such a frightingly huge (nay, dare we say it, nigh infinite) population kept in check, gourned, repressed and gouged for taxes? By appealing to the basic needs of LIFE, of course: The need to have liesure furnature, the need to drink beer, the need for unbridalled lechery, the need to believe in a higher power (otherwise recognized as the need to believe that there's always someone just a bit bigger that could beat the living bejesus out of you if you fuck up), and the most important, the need for Info-Tainment!

To deal with this, there are two distinct factions of the government: The Confederation and thh Church, the heads of which are respectfully: Rupert IX, Emperor of COW and His Holiness, Rashneesh ("Big Stevie") Zimmerman, Megapope. But wait, we stray.

You'll meet these losers in time. Soon enough you'll become intimately knowledgeable, like pass the cigarettes and kleenex familiar with wastems, Church & Munch, the Dickens Boys, The Enquisistion, The Karkas, Jumpslugs, Crickets, Sodomy Bikers and welded steel boxes, but let's not spoil the suprise. Right now, all you have to worry about is survivng the first few minutes of landing on the planet, let alone planning tea for next Thurday. Leave the rest to your loving HoLmeister. Trust me...

The players of this game, whom are either lucky to play in such a wonderland of enriching violence or just too thick to realize the game is simply a humor fuelled parody wagon, whose only purpose is to be ridden as a giant middle finger thrown up at all the other games produced by companies that take themselves much too serious.

Whichever, it's loads of fun and meant to be the best of times, if by which you consider shaving gasoline soaked lemmings with a howitzer fun, then absolutely it is the game for you.

And seriously, the game is playing a throw away from socitey, thrown away on a world populated by other throw aways, both inanimate and/or walking, hoping for the chance to redeem themsleves in teh public eye (never gonna happen) and have their throw away status replaced by something more meaningful. Like a position as head citrus molester at the neighborhood lemonade stand. So if you have the Nuts, (and yes that's an attribute) climb aboard the great space coaster and have a go!
I am the voice of Never Never Land, the innocence of every man, I am the empty crib of Peter Pan. A silent kite against the blue, blue sky, every chimney every moonlit sight. I am the story that will read you real, every memory that you hold dear...