"<PlayerName>," <Name> says, "these cuisses are transmitting a message from your ancient turtle gods."
"Oh really?" you ask. "What message?"
"Slay this filthy rapscallion immediately."
"That doesn't sound like something the ancient turtle gods would say," you reply.
"And then fix me a cup of tea."
Your opponent is a bit perplexed by all this.
"You know, <PlayerName>, I have seen the mystical Tortoise Graveyard at Galapagos. But I can never return. Allow me to tell you the tale . . ." The air seems to crackle with mystical energy as <Name> tells the story.
"You think you have a hard life, simply because you're a chitlin-less pauper?" <Name> scoffs. "I'm one of the most powerful scarecrows in the world, yet this joker has me wearing a diaper!" Your opponent looks a little cowed by the scarecrow's rage.
"You know, I once fell in love with a nurse," <Name> says, "but it turns out she was only into me for my sterile cotton stuffing." You unwind for a while as <Name> tells you the sad story.
"I must protest at this treatment," <Name> says. "These trousers smell like a chimney-sweep's bumhole! Wouldn't you agree?" And he sticks his leg out to your opponent, who take 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+44) (+1) (+1) damage from the smell.
"So it's come to this, has it?" <Name> seethes. "Forced to wear disgusting cast-off trousers that aren't even trousers at all! I'm mad enough to disembowel -- oh, say, that fellow over there, for no reason at all!" Your opponent stay well back while pondering options.
<Name> does a petulant little dance of disgust. "I can't believe you're making me wear this," he complains. "Is there a sign posted on my buttocks, reading 'Dead Gnauga Storage'?"
"I say," <Name> says, "these trousers are so bright I could blind someone with them! For example, that ruffian about to attack you!" Your opponent squints, unable to see to attack you.
"These trousers put me in mind of the time I played Stoney Terror in our preparatory school's annual musical. I'm sure you're familiar with the Stony Terror Show, that ribald old thing, eh?" <Name> says, winking.
"Allow me to demonstrate the battle hula of a small tribe I encountered on one of my many jaunts around the globe," <Name> says, savagely attacking him for 50 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"Hmph!" <Name> sniffs as he dances a lackluster hula. "In my day we used genuine grass in these skirts. That was craftsmanship, let me tell you!"
<Name> says, "I do believe you mean 'Greatest Colonial Pants,' and I believe you mean 'trousers,' not 'pants,'" and then tips you a wink and a smile so you know he's joking.
"I'm so irritated by these unfashionable trousers that I could smack someone!" <Name> says, then smacks her for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage damage.
"These trousers are simply abominable," <Name> moans. "I cannot bear to wear such repulsive, disgusting garb for another second! You there," he says, pointing at your opponent, "help me take these trousers off, immediately!" Your opponent backs away nervously, hands (or hand-analogues) upraised.
"Ah, yes, I remember old Hippopotamus Kilt," <Name> says. "Quite the explorer, was ol' Kilt. Why, he could make a man writhe in pain with just his pinky finger. Watch!" He demonstrates on your opponent for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage damage.
"Hippopotamus kilt?" <Name> asks as he does a little jig. "Well, I certainly hope they kilt it before they made this skirt out of it! Ho ho! Quite droll, eh what?"
"These trousers rather remind me of when I would go on safari with old Lord Montague," <Name> says, then raises an eyebrow at your opponent. "How do you suppose this creature's head would look, mounted on the sitting-room wall?" It looks too afraid to attack this round.
"Shall I demonstrate for you the oral hygiene tips I learned while on safari with the hippopotami?" <Name> asks. You relax as he cleans your teeth.
"It's only sporting to warn you, old bean," <Name> says, "that I intend to thrash you from top to bottomus!" Your opponent look unnerved by the threat, or possibly confused about what a 'bottomus' is.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
<Name> does a little interpretative dance about the time he went on safari and shot so many hippopotami, the local natives assumed he was some kind of malevolent thunder demon.
"My uncle Mortimer sold pencils during the Great Depression, you know," <Name> says, "Or more precisely, he sold a lack of pencils. People would give him money to not stab pencils in their eyes. Quite an entrepreneur, was Uncle Morty. Hey you!" he calls to your opponent, pulling a couple pencils from the pocket of his dungarees. "Can I interest you in a lack of pencils?" Your opponent backs away nervously.
"You know, there is something noble and romantic about the life of the wandering vagrant. Provided, of course, he wanders far away from my palacial estate." <Name> smiles, thinking of the grandeur of his personal wealth.
"Don't mess with the lobster if you're not prepared to feel the pinch!" <Name> shouts, pinching her for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage damage.
"You know, lobsters mate for life," <Name> says, "and my extensive travels and world experience means there are at least three lovely lady crustaceans pining away for me." Your opponent is too confused by that statement to attack this round.
"I say, my legs are sticking to one another in a most unpleasant fashion! I daresay these short pants are not entirely to my liking!" <Name> kicks your opponent, getting him all sticky and freaking him out for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+X) damage.
"These britches remind me of my carefree summer days spent eating the honeycomb that the servants harvested for us," <Name> says. "Did I ever tell you about the time we made the butler dress like a bee and dance to show us where dinner was?" You relax as he regales you with the story.
<Name> says "I absolutely refuse to wear these pants. They smell like a potter's privy! Or perhaps a printer's potty. Mmm. Mmmhmmhmm." He attempts to kick them free, but only manages to kick your opponent, dealing X damage.
"Now, see here!" Panty says, "I demand you fetch me an appropriate pair of woolen running trousers this instant, or I shall disembowel one of those blackguards over there!" Your opponents quiver with fear.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
"When I was a lad, I took quite a bit of exercise," <Name> says, "only it's unseemly for a gentleman to sweat, so father hired a boy to exercise in my stead. He certainly looked invigorated after each workout session!" You take a little nap as <Name> reminisces, and awaken refreshed.
"I say, <Player>," <Name> grumbles, inspecting his junk-mail pants, "these trousers are simply not the quality that I've come to... oh, I say! There's a sale at Marks and Sparks!" Your opponent glances at you, wondering what the heck is going on.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
<Name> reads a particularly lurid advertisement off of the pants, sparing no detail. Your opponent takes 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+23) damage from blushing too hard.
"Elite?" <Name> sniffs. "Hardly. Tell me, my good man, do you think a pair of trousers worn by such a boorish, uncivilized lout as a Knob Goblin guard could ever be described as 'elite'?"
<Name> does a provocative dance that he learned on one of his many trips around the world. <It> cannot unsee what <it> has seen, and takes 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+16) damage.
<Name> says, "in these pants, I am still more manly than you'll ever be, and more woman than you shall ever possess!" <He> looks too demoralized to attack this round.
<Name> says, "these uber-pants remind me of my days playing Rugby at the Uni," and tackles him, holding him down for a round.
<Name> says, "allow me to show you a traditional Knob Goblin dance I learned on my many world travels," and dances what looks like the Macarena with the hiccups.
"A man is never truly a man until he has worn a loincloth, I always say," <Name> says, smiling broadly.
"You know, <Player>, I once had my family tree traced, and it went all the way back to Krakrox himself," <Name> says. "That would explain my occasional compulsion to bathe in the blood of my enemies. I say, I feel it coming on now. . ." Your opponent backs away slowly.
"What ho, chaps!" <Name> says gleefully. "Get it? Chaps? Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh, I do love a bit of droll punnery from time to time." Your opponent blinks at you, and you sort of shrug your shoulders in response.
Monster Attack Monster attack power reduced by 19
Monster Defense Monster defense reduced by 19
"I say, old man, there appears to be something of a FULL MOON out tonight!" <Name> turns and wags his stuffed straw butt at him for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+25) damage.
"My ears may be made of cloth, dear fellow, but they function just fine, and I believe I heard you snickering at my majestic Lederhosen. Have at you!" <Name> says, kicking him for 55 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"These majestic short pants remind me of my days as a youth, when father would build a castle out of chocolate for me to live in all through the winter," <Name> says. You rest as he tells you the most delicious thing was the expression on the peasant children's faces as they stood outside his castle's gates.
<Name> glares at your opponent and shouts, "come closer, you blackguard, and I daresay I shall buckle your swashes!" He is too wary of getting swashbuckled to attack this round.
<Name> strikes a Robin Hood-esque pose, hands on hips and grinning widely. "The very model of a Renaissance gentleman!" he exclaims. "Quick, bring me a quilted doublet and ruffled collar!"
"I must say I'm perplexed that these trousers haven't vanished in a puff of steam by now! But since they're still here, might as well make the most of them," <Name> says, kicking him for 1 (+1) (+39) (+49) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"Ah, these are those trousers that are designed to look like those worn by menial laborers, but priced far higher than they would ever be able to afford, right?" The Unmoistened says. "Something like that," you respond, as your opponent looks on nonplussed.
"These trousers do remind me of the summer I spent actually -- gasp -- working with my hands, after father cut me off of my allowance in a fit of pique," <Name> says, stifling a sob. You rest a moment while he composes himself.
<Name> says, "take a look at this, you blackguard! This is the scarecrow your scarecrow could smell like, if he were half the scarecrow I am! I'm on a horse!" Your opponent looks disheartened and confused by that statement.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
"A towel around one's middle is much more appropriate garb for the sauna, rather than travelling," <name> complains, as he does a half-hearted little dance. "Still, any port in a storm, eh what? Nothing better than a glass of port after a good sauna, I always say."
<Name> sneaks up behind your opponent and shouts, "I say, old chap! TIMBEERRRRRR!" It looks a little freaked out.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
<Name> says, "I say, old bean, I will never understand modern haberdashery. Why, when I was a youth, the manliest thing one could wear was a floor-length ballgown with stunning decolletage, and matching diamond earrings and necklace! Now I see women wearing the same thing!" You chuckle to yourself and feel refreshed.
<Name> says, "dear creature, if you expect me to do some 'ol´e; dance for your amusement, you are sorely misled." It is too disappointed to attack this round.
"By Fernswarthy's black heart, this is too much to bear! To be dressed in the filthy garments of a common day laborer? I won't have it, by thunder!" <Name> shouts, startling your opponent so much that it forgets to attack this round.
"I can't bear a single minute more in these trousers!" <Name> shouts. "I'm suffocating in the stench of the sweat of the common man! Smell this, will you?" He holds up his leg to your opponent, doing 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+48) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I say, this is a fairly convincing monster costume -- or, at least half of one," <Name> says. "Maybe we could skin that blackguard over there to make the top half, eh?" Your opponent is a little too frightened to attack this round.
"These trousers put me in mind of when father hired a theater to put on a play with me as the star, and made all the servants play roles," <Name> says, smiling at the memory.
"These pants make me ponder the beauty and grace of the Pork Elves," <Name> says, "which only makes you look worse in comparison." Your opponent looks abashed after that insult.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
"I'm sorry, old bean, but I simply must do a traditional dance of the Pork Elves. It's pure poetry in motion, if I dare say so myself," <Name> says, interpretive-dancing his stuffed heart out.
"I say, old chap, these trousers are nice, but I think I smell a rat, and I don't mean that idiomatically," <Name> says, kicking it for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+2) damage.
"I say, these suede leggings are quite nice, actually," <Name> says. "What are they fashioned of? Calfskin? " "Don't tell him," you whisper to your opponent, who nod and keep his distance..
"Ah, see here," <Name> says, "these stains are actually a rather potent hot sauce! Here, try a bit." He sticks his pants leg out to your opponents, doing 1 (+1) (+59) (+1) (+1) (+2) (+1) damage.
"I must say, dear boy," <Name> says, "these trousers certainly have got me feeling . . . saucy." Your opponents are too demoralized by that pun to attack this round.
You shout, "Go ninja, go ninja, go!" as <Name> spin-kicks them for 1 (+1) (+40) (+2) (+1) (+2) (+1) damage.
"I say, <Player>, in these trousers I feel as though I could decapitate a hater with amazing ease!" <Name> says. Your opponents hang back, not willing to risk any vital appendages.
"I cannot lie, old bean, I have a burning desire to kick these blackguards with my red-hot pants! Or possibly my red hot-pants? Well, either, really," <Name> says, kicking <them> for 1 (+1) (+121) (+2) (+1) (+2) (+1) damage.
"Where did you find these trousers?" asks <Name>. "I rather suspect they may be part of an old suit I once gave to a chimney-sweep in lieu of payment. Here," he says, holding a leg out to your opponent, "smell my leg. Does it smell like chimney-sweep to you?" Your opponent backs away, perplexed and repulsed.
"Ah, I remember how the knees wore out of my favorite suit," <Name> says. "I was cutting a rug, and a fancy figure, at a fancy ball, and I slid on my knees across the marble floor. Here, allow me to demonstrate."
<Favorite Name> says, "good god, man, how do you expect me to have a modicum of self-respect in these pants? I refuse to let <it> attack you until you let me change."
"I say," <Favored Name> says, "there are some rather remarkable things in these pockets. What's this individually packaged balloon for?" He shows it to them, causing them 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+27) points' worth of embarrassment.
"I do believe that modern hazing rituals lack a certain je ne sais quoi," <Name> says. "I mean, they focus almost exclusively on the buttocks and ignore the nipples!" You relax while he tells you about the good ol' nipple-torturing days at his prep school.
"Ordinarily, I would caution you to avoid befouling my expensive new shoes with this miserable creature's blood," Panty says, "But these waders should do a capital job of protecting me, so 'go to town', as they say!" Your opponent seems a bit taken aback by all this.
Monster attack power reduced by X
Monster defense reduced by X
"I say," <Name> says, somewhat reduntantly, "the only smell stronger than the stench of failure off of this creature is the stench of my trousers!" And he kicks it for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+131) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I must confess I frequently have sticky pants, but never for this particular reason," <Name> says. "And I'm covered in dead flies -- can you believe the smell of it! Here, sniff," he says, holding his leg out to your opponent and causing 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+113) (+1) (+1) damage.
"Why are you looking at me in such a fashion?" <Name> asks. "Are my flies undone?" Your opponent doesn't seem to know how to respond to that.
