Shit, I’m just some weirdo who writes weird books, and I’ve given speeches cold because the floodlights turned my iPad screen black. If you do public speaking for a living, this is like the barest minimum level of competency.
And like, these are not complicated speeches! I could give an RNC rah-rah USA, guns & Jesus speech, if there was a gun to my head or I needed to cause a distraction for the heist team or whatever.
It’s D&D night! When last we played, a monster had taken down Waffles, the bard’s beloved horse. Responding to the cries of bardic distress, our Rhino just leapt fifteen feet off a cliff and landed on the Kruthik Hive Lord.
The party has converged on the enemy. The other horse, Buddy, has run away.
MONK: That’s possibly the most realistic thing that’s ever happened in one of our games.
We have encountered a merchant who is trying to sell us fancy plate for 10k gold.
PALADIN: HA! No. Anything you want done? Healing? Rheumatism cleared up? I can cure the clap.
GM: *sputters*
PALADIN: What? It’s good money, curing the clap. Particularly if you set up near the docks.
PARTY: *assorted noises*
PALADIN: There’s not always a lot of money in smiting, okay?
The funny thing about the phrase is, like, ideas are a dime a dozen! Go write your retelling of Beauty & the Beast with were-penguins or whatever, no one’s stopping you, you just can’t copy someone else’s. But I guess “execution landlord” doesn’t roll off the tongue the same way.
