You smell something delicious. On the second floor of the warehouse is there’s a kitchen. You spot the delightful, elderly mama goon in an apron at the stove. She doesn’t turn around, but senses your presence.

“Would you like a plate of baked ziti?” asks the mama goon. “The secret ingredient is love.”

You step cautiously towards her. The smell is too intoxicating to resist. She reaches into the oven and pulls out a gun. Before you can run away, she shoots you right in the butt.

“Don’t mess with my goon family,” she shouts at you, hurling a wooden spoon in your general direction. It’s a good thing you literally have buns of steel after a major sitting accident last year, but it still hurts.

Lose -5 health points.

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