MAGNUM, P.I. — MONSTER HUNTER

I truly love stumbling across used rpg boxed sets, because there's usually awesome treasures inside.  Like when bought a 1986 Marvel Super Heroes Advanced Set at Half Price Books for $10 that not only contained the complete contents, but also the uber-rare-at-the-time-for-cheap The Ultimate Powers Guide.

I particularly delight in old character sheets and GM notes that prove the game in question was actually played.

For Free RPG Day 2014, friendly neighborhood shop Ettin Games held an insane "Anything & Everything You Can Fit In A Plastic Shopping Bag For $10" sale.  I got a mountain of stuff, including a solid chunk of Dragon mags in the #40-80 range, a slew of TSR modules, and two boxed sets.

One of which was Pacesetter's 1984 Chill, which, when averaged out, cost me about 25¢. As I said, INSANE.

And inside the box was this:

There's even a hint of his psychic mojo, from the weirdo last season.

MAJESTY.

Now I gotta come up with some way to give him the ol' Planet Motherfucker treatment.

Slagnum, Private Ifrit, maybe?  Or Thomas Magma?

Hmmmmm....

THE TIME I COMMISSIONED FAMOUS SLASHERS AS CATS

Courtesy of Stacie "Final Girl" Ponder, from her long-sold-out 2012 mini-comic, Slashers 101.

For an extra $5, you got a nifty masked-psycho-related sketch of your choice on the back cover.  I bought two.

SLEAZE FEATURE: 'TEENAGE HOT-ROD WEREWOLVES FROM MARS!' (2004)

When I did my big tribute to the glories of Planet Motherfucker and other psychotronobilly games, there were some I plum forgot existed.  Reorganizing my bookshelves reminded me there's a few more.

Like Teenage Hot-Rod Werewolves From Mars!, a d20 Modern minigame featured in EN World Gamer #2.

From the intro, by author Corey Reid:

"Teenage Hot-Rod Werewolves From Mars is...designed to recall the classic science fiction and horror films of the 1950s....  The players take on the roles of assorted Teenage Monsters:  misunderstood youths who nevertheless are always there to answer the call of danger and save their beloved town from the Attacks Of Otherworldly Menaces!"

That sounds plenty Planet Motherfucker-ful right there, itellyuhwhut.  (Except for those "answer the call of danger" and "save their beloved town" parts, obviously.)

The general assumption is that PCs had ordinary teenage lives in the all-American burg of Summerville before turning monstery, so they start with backgrounds (as d20 Occupations, with appropriate Ability mods) like Good Kid, Bad Kid, Delinquent, and Brainiac.  There's a pointed difference between the middle pair, as Bad Kids "aren't criminals or anything, but...always sneaking out after dark [and] putting frogs in [their] sister's lunchboxes", while Delinquents amp it up with switchblades, mother's tears, and general no-goodnikery.  Cute.

Next come the five character classes, where players decide to be "stompy, googly, oozy, bitey, or howly" as, respectively, Teenage Frankensteins, Teenage Martians, Teenage Swamp Monsters, Teenage Vampires, or Teenage Werewolves.

Excuse me while I type "stompy, googly, oozy, bitey, or howly" again.  Gives me the giggles.

Classes follow the obvious beats:  Teenage Frankensteins are bruisers.  Teenage Martians [blow the "used to be normal" thing right out of the water, as they're actually invaders from space...but the good kind] are techie-psychic wizards with "mini-Martian" animal familiars.  Teenage Swamp Monsters are outright D&D druids.  Teenage Vampires are facemen / skill-jockeys.  Teenage Werewolves are stab-machines [that seem overly complicated and crunchy due to multiple forms, accidental transformations, etc].

The accompanying Class art is delightful.  Love the peatnik [I TOTALLY JUST MADE THAT UP!!!] and Olivia Newton-Jaracula [DITTO!!!  I AM HILARIOUS!!!].

There are no Teenage Mummies.  A tragedy!

For those that care about such things, each class progresses from levels 1-10, with generally a Feat or Special Ability granted at each level.  HP are d6 for the skill-ier ones, d8 for the fight-ier ones, and d10 for the obvious one.  There seems to be no attention to balance (Teenage Martians and Swamp Monsters have a ton spell-like mojo going on), which is dandy.  There's rules for Angst and Embarrassment (which capture the particular social hazards of being teenagers first and monsters second), and tweaked Skills to make them more appropriate to the time period.  Like, Computer Use gets over half a page of text and charts and Difficulty Classes and such, but boils down to "it's a gymnasium-sized box with lights and dials that answers one question only...and maybe not correctly".  And Hot-Rod handles racing for pinks and fast chases and sounds really fun on paper,  yet devolves into boring Skill Checks.  I totally like the intent, but the d20-ness really clunkies it up.

You can't have a 1950s monsterfest without The Townsfolk, and there's a section on how to handle them...which is a wholly unsatisfying "treat the entire town as one single NPC and resolve its / their reactions with Diplomacy checks".  Yuck, yuck, yuck.  I get that it's a minigame with limited pages, but man, that is terrible.

Another thing.  There's no detailing how Teenage Monsters are supposed to—in the context of the setting as designed, I mean—interact with The Townsfolk.  If the PCs were normal and then creature-fied, are they secret vigilantes?  Social pariahs?  Blatant superheroes?  With light-hearted fluff like this, the answer should obviously be "whatever equals maximum fun", but there is a huge disconnect between the goofy setting motifs and the framing ruleset.  And it wasn't helped by this thread, where the designer suggests the default assumption is The Townsfolk are "blissfully ignorant" of the mayhem around them...which makes any kind of codified Diplomacy interactions and the aforementioned Embarrassment mechanics totally weird.

I'm clearly over-thinking this.

The text rounds out with some bits about Combat [my summary:  "It's the '50s, so don't run around with machine-guns and swords, and don't hack-n-slash your way through everything."  Like, really?  Does this actually have to be explained?], and two new foe monsters:  Yer Basic Martian (the bad kind) and Brain In A Vat.  Also cute.  The monsters, I mean.

You can find a map of Summerville and a PDF'd version of the long-gone-from-the-original-host-proper web enhancement (with NPCs, a travel guide for Summerville, and more) in that same forum thread. Worth a look.

—

Teenage Hot-Rod Werewolves From Mars! is a slick little vehicle, lovingly created...but woefully hampered by the underlying engine.  It's begging to be rejiggered for...oh, I dunno...Savage Worlds, maybe?  Go that route, and there's even a Teenage Frankenstein template all ready to go.

Or, hell, just play THRWFM! with the original rpg for teenage monster hijinks.

No, not that one, you freaks.  The OTHER one.

—

Final Review Score:  3.5 Jamesensteins out of 5.

PLANET MOTHERFUCKER'S MOST WANTED: JOEL TYPE-OSTEEN

Charismatic unholy-roller Joel Type-Osteen is the founder and pastor of Stakewood Church, aka The Oasis Of Blood.  He's handsome, effusive, sincere, and the farthest thing from "savage bloodsucker of the night" that you can imagine...which makes him infinitely more disturbing than your average dracula.

Type-Osteen's particular feel-good brand of god-bothering caters to those restless dead who seek salvation from their sanguinary natures...and it seems to work, as Stakewood parishoners are kinder, gentler, and far less homicidal than the norm.  Another thing:  his flock is utterly immune to the adverse effects of wooden weaponry.  Must have something to do with the church's freaky "stakehandling" rituals.

Many find Type-Osteen inspiring; others think he's got schemes (above and beyond the typical sins of televangelistic excess) that'll shake Planet Motherfucker to its core.  I mean, just look at the dude—prettyboy is clearly hiding something.  And the Satanists are just dying to bring Type-Osteen down.  Could mean serious bank for enterprising PCs, and a surefire way to get in good with the Infernal Powers.

Stakewood Church's symbol is a stylized bat-winged crucifix.  Still Christian iconography, but tweaked enough to prevent unpleasant undead side-effects.

Joel Type-Osteen

Seasoned (30 XP)
Race:  Vampire [p. 11 of Savage Worlds Horror Companion]
Attributes:  Agility d6, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d8, Vigor d8

Skills:  Fighting d6, Notice d6, Knowledge (That Old-Time Religion) d8, Persuasion d10, Stealth d4, Streetwise d6

Derived:  Charisma 2, Pace 6, Parry 5, Toughness 8

Hindrances:  Code Of Honor, Greedy (Minor), Pacifist (Minor)
Natural Weapons:  Claws (Str +d6)
Racial Abilities:  as Vampire (except no Weakness: +4 damage from wooden weapons)

Edges:  Charismatic, Command, Command Presence, Filthy Rich, Inspire, Natural Leader, Rich
Gear:  Bible, Limousine, Rolex, Wooden Stakes By The Crate

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

PLANET MOTHERFUCKER'S MOST WANTED: FLO FRANKENBERRY

Florence Jean "Flo" Frankenberry is the only waitress irascible restauranteur Mel Sharkles  hasn't run off over the years.  Good thing she's so sassy and stubborn (and spiteful), because The Offal House would fall apart without her.

Yeah, the furious fuchsia formaldehyde'd filly keeps patrons and Mel alike in line via sheer force of personality...and when her saucy charms and razor wit aren't enough to rein 'em in, Flo administers the violence.  She's simply the best damned server-slash-bouncer in this world and the next.

You know Flo's dander is up when she bellows, "Kiss my gristle!!!"  Probably a good time to run, unless you like a side of dismemberment with your entree.

Flo Frankenberry

Race:  Patchwork Woman [p. 10 of Savage Worlds Horror Companion]
Attributes:  Agility d6, Smarts d6, Spirit d10, Strength d10, Vigor d10

Skills:  Fighting d6, Knowledge (Waitressing) d6, Notice d6, Persuasion d8, Taunt d8, Throwing d6

Derived:  Charisma 2, Pace 6, Parry 6, Toughness 9

Hindrances:  Big Mouth, Quirk (Brassy)

Edges:  Charismatic
Racial Abilities:  as Patchwork Woman

Gear:   Beer Bottle Of Opportunity (STR +d6), Stabbin' Pen (STR +d4), Serving Tray (as Medium Shield), Hairspray By The Industrial Drum