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Hello, lesser primates. My name is Thurston Willholm Beasley VII and I am a level five Dungeon Master. You, of course, will call me by my professional name, Volkak. Aside from my mastery of narrative prose, intergalactic languages, and nearly expert skill with a photopsionic laser bow-staff, I am also a quite accomplished seducer of those neurotic creatures colloquially referred to as "chicks." I am probably the most womanizing person I know, as my friends have never spoken to a woman. I saw one once at a gas station and I said, "Hey," then walked away quickly. I know, I'm pretty awesome. I'm here today to educate you as best I can, though I'm fairly certain that your underdeveloped, pathetic excuse for a mind could never comprehend what I am about to tell you.
The first step in seducing women is, of course, scoping out a likely target. As any woman could tell you, chicks don't like spontaneity. In fact, they hate it. If there's one thing they can appreciate more than the right to vote as if equals to the greater gender, it's a man who knows how to live by a plan. Don't surprise them with anything, that only confuses their parochial brains. When choosing a woman to be your slave, you don't want to just approach one. The thought is ludicrous. All parties involved will appreciate method to your seduction. Which means you shouldn't speak to- or even look at- your target. Simply follow her and watch her for several weeks with some handy equipment you just happened to have on your person.
Next, after you have established an understanding of her primitive interests, i.e., the music or movies she enjoys, the activities she performs when she isn't straddling you in your fantasies, you must approach her in an environment which may at the time seem awkward to her- but later she will thank you for making conversation unavoidable. I suggest in line at the grocery store or- my personal favorite- the hallway of her apartment building, with my body strategically placed between her and the door to her apartment. Once a comfortable escape is unlikely, women want you to make some superficial compliment on their appearance. I tend to stick with, "I like your face. It reminds me of the moon." Now this part is very important: No matter what they say, they are TOTALLY into it. How could they not be? I'm a Dungeon Master fluent in Klingon, Vulcan (and Romulan dialects), and Wookie and I'm a Certified Jedi Force Instructor for the Empire. They may pretend to not be interested, but it's clearly because they are overwhelmed by my credentials. This is why (IMPORTANT) I do not list these achievements orally, for that would make me seem boastful. Instead, I whisper a poem of my own composition, translated into Wookie, into her ear. Something like... "Grrrghr trrg owwwwgrgrgritir. Lrlrlrlrlglglglrlr, owgrg og." I know, it's beautiful, isn't it?
Once I have managed to convince her to go on a date with me in a way which, I assure you, has nothing to do with guilt or pity, I prepare myself for this sacred rite, donning my Ranger Aragorn boots, Batman utility belt (purchased from Ebay and an actual prop from Batman Forever), Authentic Dungeon Master vest complete with patches of my accomplishments and tokens from the beasts I've slain whilst on journeys, Darth Vader replica cape (in case it gets chilly), and the Helm of Rohan. I know, I look pretty good. When I arrive to pick her up, I am six hours early. But not because I have nothing better to do. I do this so she knows I am willing to sacrifice my World of Warcraft quests for her benefit. I offer he a ride on my segue, then tell her surreptitiously not to touch the red button. I glued it on with a little christmas light inside it, so it doesn't actually DO anything, but all night she will be wondering what it does. It's genius.
DON'T touch the red button.
Then I would skip the restaurant she'd requested in lieu of something more interesting. Women don't know what they want anyway. We would go to a tournament for Magic: The Gathering and although she pretends to not be riveted, I know the truth. She is helping me: when she yawns, it means my adversary is going to throw a reflector card. When she looks at the time, it means I should increase attack, and when she pretends to send text messages, it means I need to stack my hand with place cards. While we're in public together, people will invariably shout mean things at me and call me a geek. I'm not perturbed by this, however, because I know that once the Empire rewards my valiant service, I will need slaves on my plantation on T'urg'a'tog'atooktuk.
After I collect my fifth place Honorable Mention placard and assure her I'd have won if not for that pre-teen cheating his ass off, we return to my place in my mom's basement. I know, my pad's pretty sweet. My mom brings down little pies, and I yell at her for bringing pies with meringue icing and custard filling instead of meringue filling and custard icing. Women love assertive men. I nod nonchalantly toward my comic book collection even though it's a pretty big deal. I don't want to seem too impressed with myself. Chicks love it when a man is aloof towards his comic collection. I recite her another poem, this time an epic in Vulcan- but I use Germanic sentence structure to make the language more alluring. Soon, she will be so insistent upon going home that I can't refuse. She even offers to walk herself out so that my important time should not be further wasted. She does this to seem unimpressed, but the truth of the matter is this: she can't wait for the good night kiss. Even when I pucker up and lean in, she plays hard to get, but as I get near enough to smell her hair, I twitch twice, ejaculate, and faint on the basement floor.
Yes, yes, I am a veritable god of the dating scene. It is my charitable nature which allows me to pass on my secrets to you young, pathetic nerds who wish to emalate my successes. Someday, with my advice, perhaps you too can almost kiss a woman.
By the way, in the introduction of this article, I claimed to be a level five Dungeon Master. And you bought it. Dungeon Masters don't HAVE levels, dork! Perhaps you should try a bit harder.
And you thought you were ready for love.
