Blaine Warbler had never been stopped, nor hindered, in his quest to indiscriminately eat almost everything… Until last week.

“Gasoline, lead, rat poison. He took it all in stride,” recalled Ted Wurg, a close friend of the unfortunate Mr. Warbler. “As kids we used to eat that kind of stuff all the time.”

A glimmer appeared in Ted’s eyes as he shared stories of their childhood. “For pocket change we would offer our consumption services to neighbors. I can’t tell you how many ants, cockroaches, and bastard kids we put away together.”

Asked to recount the circumstances of Blaine’s death, Wurg’s face turned woeful and somber. “I told him, damnit. I told him that stuff was trouble. But he just wouldn’t listen.”

Ted went on to tell us how he found his lifelong friend dead in the bathroom of his house last Thursday. “Yep, he died a-poopin’. Pooped so hard he cracked the bowl. Ain’t nothin’ ever gave Blaine problems like that before. Not even Etan Patz.”

Police detectives discovered an empty beef jerky bag on the floor in the living room of the Warbler residence. An autopsy confirmed that severe diarrhea, triggered by eating a “Do Not Eat” packet, was the cause of death.

There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun.

There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5!

Democrat

From the depths of the most gargantuan cities to the houses of the smallest hamlets, there are always individuals who believe that the world can be better, that people can be equal, that the wilderness can be preserved, and that everyone can be as happy and as healthy as everyone else. These men and women are known as Democrats, and they are sworn to bringing about the social change that they deem necessary in the world. A Democrat believes himself to be a great hero, and acts in such a way that others tend to believe it too, no matter what his actions are. As master speakers and manipulators, a Democrat can easily bring others into the fold to campaign for his desired goals.

Adventures: Democrats are drawn to the adventuring life in order to better the world in some way, to help the downtrodden, the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. If there is an opportunity to help a group of people achieve freedom or equality in some way, there is likely to be a Democrat around, attempting to help. Very rarely do Democrats take part in military campaigns, as nonviolence is a highly prized characteristic in Democratic circles.

Characteristics: Anyone can be a Democrat. Even those you least expect.

Alignment: Any, though a Democrat will believe that he is Lawful Good, no matter what his actual alignment is. He will justify any action he takes as being for the greater good.

Religion: To be a Democrat, a character must be an atheist. Furthermore, and character with a level in Democrat cannot take a level in Paladin, Cleric, Wizard, Sorcerer, or any other class which deals with the arcane or divine, as Democrats believe only in the power of the proletariat. If a character with levels in a class which uses divine magic takes a level in Democrat, they must exchange all levels in their previous class for levels of Democrat.

Background: Democrats come from any number of backgrounds, from the poorest of the poor who desire to help people who came from similar circumstances, to the richest of the rich who wish to help the less fortunate, to corrupt officials who wish to stay in power through manipulation of the masses. As stated earlier, anyone can be a democrat.

Races: Members of any race can be a democrat, but they are most often humans, as they are one of the youngest and least-experienced races.

Other classes: Democrats despise members of any class which deals with religion, and often believe that magic-users are simply very talented tricksters. They usually get on well with Druids and Rangers, as their affinity for nature gels well with the Democrat’s desire to preserve it. In general, the less violent a class’s role is, the better they will get along with the Democrat, especially at higher levels.

Role: From a player character’s point of view, a Democrat doesn’t really have a useful role to perform in a party setting. The Democrat specializes in charisma-based abilities, but no more so than a Bard or Sorcerer. From the Dungeon Master’s perspective, though, the presence of a Democrat can make a storyline much more interesting! Democrats can cause trouble for companions and enemies alike, and can solve problems in an incredibly original fashion…or create them!

Game Rule Information Democrats have the following game statistics. Abilities: Charisma is the most important statistic for a Democrat, as they gain power by convincing others to follow them and do their bidding. All others are secondary. Hit die: d6 Class Skills: The Democrat’s class skills (and the key ability for each skill) are Appraise (Int), Bluff (Cha), Concentration (Con), Decipher Script (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Disguise (Cha), Gather Information (Cha), Hide (Dex), Knowledge (all skills, taken individually) (Int), Listen (Wis), Perform (Cha), Profession (Barrister) (Wis), Sense Motive (Wis), Speak Language (Rhetoric) (n/a), See Chapter 4: Skills in the D&D Player’s Handbook for skill descriptions. Skill Points at First Level: (6+Cha modifier)x4 Skill Points at Each Additional Level: 6+Cha modifier

Class Features All of the following are class features of the Democrat. Weapon and Armor Proficiency: A Democrat is proficient with all simple weapons and light armor that are completely biodegradable, as he does not wish to harm the environment. Any weapon or armor made of organic material (a club or studded leather, for example) must have been crafted from an already dead organism. If the Democrat is not completely sure that his gear falls into this category, he is required to roll 1d20 at the beginning of combat. If the roll is less than 11, he may not participate in combat while wielding the questionable gear. Class abilities:

Culturally Sensitive The Democrat is constantly walking on eggshells to avoid insulting beings of other races. The Democrat adds a number equal to half their level, rounded up, to all charisma-based checks with beings of other races which have an alignment identical to the Democrat. If the being in question has an alignment that does not match the Democrat, the being will become annoyed by the Democrat’s pandering, and the bonus becomes negative.

Yes We Can! Starting at level 3, the Democrat sees the light of hope and change. Deep down in the soul that he does not believe exists, the Democrat believes that he can accomplish anything, no matter what the obstacles are. The Democrat becomes constantly under the effects of Inspire Courage, as per the Bard ability.

Unionize! Starting at level 5, the Democrat feels an urge to ensure that all members of [...]]]> I play Dungeons and Dragons.

There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun.

There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5!

Democrat

From the depths of the most gargantuan cities to the houses of the smallest hamlets, there are always individuals who believe that the world can be better, that people can be equal, that the wilderness can be preserved, and that everyone can be as happy and as healthy as everyone else. These men and women are known as Democrats, and they are sworn to bringing about the social change that they deem necessary in the world. A Democrat believes himself to be a great hero, and acts in such a way that others tend to believe it too, no matter what his actions are. As master speakers and manipulators, a Democrat can easily bring others into the fold to campaign for his desired goals.

Adventures: Democrats are drawn to the adventuring life in order to better the world in some way, to help the downtrodden, the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. If there is an opportunity to help a group of people achieve freedom or equality in some way, there is likely to be a Democrat around, attempting to help. Very rarely do Democrats take part in military campaigns, as nonviolence is a highly prized characteristic in Democratic circles.

Characteristics: Anyone can be a Democrat. Even those you least expect.

Alignment: Any, though a Democrat will believe that he is Lawful Good, no matter what his actual alignment is. He will justify any action he takes as being for the greater good.

Religion: To be a Democrat, a character must be an atheist. Furthermore, and character with a level in Democrat cannot take a level in Paladin, Cleric, Wizard, Sorcerer, or any other class which deals with the arcane or divine, as Democrats believe only in the power of the proletariat. If a character with levels in a class which uses divine magic takes a level in Democrat, they must exchange all levels in their previous class for levels of Democrat.

Background: Democrats come from any number of backgrounds, from the poorest of the poor who desire to help people who came from similar circumstances, to the richest of the rich who wish to help the less fortunate, to corrupt officials who wish to stay in power through manipulation of the masses. As stated earlier, anyone can be a democrat.

Races: Members of any race can be a democrat, but they are most often humans, as they are one of the youngest and least-experienced races.

Other classes: Democrats despise members of any class which deals with religion, and often believe that magic-users are simply very talented tricksters. They usually get on well with Druids and Rangers, as their affinity for nature gels well with the Democrat’s desire to preserve it. In general, the less violent a class’s role is, the better they will get along with the Democrat, especially at higher levels.

Role: From a player character’s point of view, a Democrat doesn’t really have a useful role to perform in a party setting. The Democrat specializes in charisma-based abilities, but no more so than a Bard or Sorcerer. From the Dungeon Master’s perspective, though, the presence of a Democrat can make a storyline much more interesting! Democrats can cause trouble for companions and enemies alike, and can solve problems in an incredibly original fashion…or create them!

Game Rule Information
Democrats have the following game statistics.
Abilities: Charisma is the most important statistic for a Democrat, as they gain power by convincing others to follow them and do their bidding. All others are secondary.
Hit die: d6
Class Skills: The Democrat’s class skills (and the key ability for each skill) are Appraise (Int), Bluff (Cha), Concentration (Con), Decipher Script (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Disguise (Cha), Gather Information (Cha), Hide (Dex), Knowledge (all skills, taken individually) (Int), Listen (Wis), Perform (Cha), Profession (Barrister) (Wis), Sense Motive (Wis), Speak Language (Rhetoric) (n/a), See Chapter 4: Skills in the D&D Player’s Handbook for skill descriptions.
Skill Points at First Level: (6+Cha modifier)x4
Skill Points at Each Additional Level: 6+Cha modifier

Class Features
All of the following are class features of the Democrat.
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: A Democrat is proficient with all simple weapons and light armor that are completely biodegradable, as he does not wish to harm the environment. Any weapon or armor made of organic material (a club or studded leather, for example) must have been crafted from an already dead organism. If the Democrat is not completely sure that his gear falls into this category, he is required to roll 1d20 at the beginning of combat. If the roll is less than 11, he may not participate in combat while wielding the questionable gear.

Class abilities:

Culturally Sensitive
The Democrat is constantly walking on eggshells to avoid insulting beings of other races. The Democrat adds a number equal to half their level, rounded up, to all charisma-based checks with beings of other races which have an alignment identical to the Democrat. If the being in question has an alignment that does not match the Democrat, the being will become annoyed by the Democrat’s pandering, and the bonus becomes negative.

Yes We Can!
Starting at level 3, the Democrat sees the light of hope and change. Deep down in the soul that he does not believe exists, the Democrat believes that he can accomplish anything, no matter what the obstacles are. The Democrat becomes constantly under the effects of Inspire Courage, as per the Bard ability.

Unionize!
Starting at level 5, the Democrat feels an urge to ensure that all members of his party receive equal shares of the loot and treasure that they procure, regardless of amount of work done. Until everyone in the party agrees to such an arrangement, the Democrat will forego all non-essential actions, constantly preaching and expounding the virtues of “unionizing the party”.

Spread the Wealth Around
Starting at level 7, the Democrat becomes angry at the fact that despite his best efforts, some people are better off than others. He will become angry at anyone who is wealthier than he is, and feels compelled to redistribute their wealth in any way he can, be it robbery, trickery, blackmail, or anything else he can think of. The Democrat will justify this action as being good, no matter what action he takes. The Democrat will take a -2 penalty to all saving throws as long as he is aware of a target wealthy individual.

Self-Loathing
Starting at level 9, the Democrat becomes aware how much better off he is than some people in the world, and begins to hate himself for being alive, healthy, and having luxuries, when there are so many others in the world who are starving and slaving under tyrants. When the Democrat finds any sort of treasure or loot, he has a very slight compulsion to use it to better the life of some unfortunate being. The Democrat must make a will save of 1, or donate his share of the loot and treasure to a being or group of beings that he deems underprivileged. If the Democrat makes the will save, he will keep all of his share of the loot, and insist that he will use it for noble purposes, even though he probably has no intention of doing so.

Bleeding Heart
At 11th level, the Democrat becomes painfully aware of the intense and constant suffering that everyone else in the world feels, and is overwhelmed with guilt. Up to 3 times each day at the Dungeon Master’s command, the Democrat must make a will save to engage in action that could cause any sort of unhappiness or discomfort for anyone else, even in situations where inaction will have terrible consequences for the Democrat and his/her party of adventurers.

An Inconvenient Truth
Starting at level 13, the Democrat realizes that the ends justify the means (as far as his goals and actions are concerned) and will lie to anyone about anything as long as it advances their personal goals. If telling the truth would negatively impact the Democrat’s plans, he must lie. If the Democrat wishes to tell the truth in such a situation (who knows why), he must make a will save of 20 to do so.

Hell No, We Won’t Go!
Starting at 15^th level, the Democrat discovers that violence is not only not always the answer, but never the answer. When faced with a combat situation, the Democrat must make a will save of 20 or be unable to take any combative action for the duration of the battle, and instead spends the entire fight lecturing all involved about the evils of fisticuffs. If he is somehow forced into combat, the Democrat takes a -10 to all his base attack bonuses.

Health Care Reform
At 17^th level, the Democrat feels the urge to provide healing to all beings in the world, regardless of race, creed, nationality, or otherwise. When faced with an injured being or group of beings (such as a party or town) outside of combat, the Democrat must roll 1d6 on the following table:

A Legend in his Own Mind
At 20^th level, the Democrat becomes aware that he is the greatest being that has ever existed in the entirety of the universe. If his base Charisma score is below an 18, it is raised to that number. The Democrat may attempt to recruit people to his cause. Any NPC with an intelligence of 8 or below is automatically convinced to change their way of life and goals to that of the Democrat, while NPC’s with an intelligence of 10 or higher must be convinced by a charisma-based check. The Democrat may convince mass numbers of people to join him at once, and anyone who can clearly hear him speak or who reads his written call to action may be instantly convinced to join him. They will be oblivious to any actions he takes which are in opposition to his public goals, and will go out of their way to justify anything he does, no matter how heinous. The Democrat may command his legions to do anything he wishes, and they will comply without question. Player characters must make a will save of 30 to avoid being recruited to the Democrat’s cause, though PCs that have traveled with the Democrat since level 1 (or, if the game starts with PCs at a higher level, since early in the adventure, at the DM’s discretion) are immune, as they can see right through his bullshit.

Ex-Democrats
A Democrat who renounces the beliefs and practices of his class cannot progress in levels as a Democrat, and loses all Democrat abilities except Yes We Can!

Human Democrat Starting Package
Armor:  None (speed 30 ft.)
Weapons:  Quarterstaff (naturally harvested) (1d6/1d6, crit x2, 4 lb., two-handed, bludgeoning)
Skill Selection: Pick a number of skills equal to 6+Cha modifier, 4 ranks in each, from the list of class skills under the Game Rule Information subsection.
Feat: Deceitful
Gear: None. The Democrat believes that the wealthy should provide for him.
Gold: None. See above.

“Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!”

He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.

“Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?”

“I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.”

“Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.”

Scrooge stopped writing and looked up at his nephew with a stare as cold as the air in the bleak counting house. “Christmas,” said the old miser, “is nothing but a reminder of the inevitable passage of time, an anniversary upon which the fates decide to heap another tragedy upon my life.”

The nephew took a seat as the old man continued, his voice barely concealing a cruel cynical laugh of contempt. “How should I celebrate Christmas, then? Shall I spend the evening alone with my books, as I did as a child? While every other student of the boarding school was fattening himself upon roasts and candied fruits, I was in solitude save for Ali Babba taking sanctuary from your grandfather, a man who held me a grudge for killing my mother in childbirth. My first Christmases were full of pain and disappointment, watching your mother open lavish gifts while I received nothing but my father’s bitter wisdom. ‘The gift of life should be enough for you, Ebenezer,’ he would say. ‘Heaven knows we paid enough for it and have yet to profit from the exchange.’ No, no Christmas of my youth should serve as template for celebration.”

A tear was at the corner of the nephew’s eye, eyes so like his mother’s. She too would cry come Christmas and would secretly offer to share whatever she received with the young Ebenezer to try and keep his spirits up. But he always refused. It was the name slot on the tags he wanted, not the gifts inside. Inside, the nephew felt a burning surge of empathy for the old man; he knew what it was like to be blamed for the death of one’s mother.

“I suppose I had one happy Christmas, at old Fezziwig’s fabric store as an apprentice. He threw the most lavish of parties, especially considering he spent so little on it. I danced then, you know, and was known as being quite agile on my feet. And I met her, Belle, a beautiful young woman in appearance and soul. We danced, we laughed, we loved.”

A smile crept up on the old man, slowly working facial muscles long atrophied to the years. A small hope crept up inside the nephew, before being crushed. “But, the higher the rise, the greater the fall. I poured my soul into my work for her, to earn her, taking the small inheritance I received and lending it out, investing, to build a solid foundation for our future. Christmas after Christmas she expected me to seal our contract, and Christmas after Christmas I was unready. Those were years of building disappointment and a growing gap between us. Should I celebrate those Christmases? A toast to what I had once and lost due to time? Shall I roast a goose to honor the hours of silence that emerged? Or decorate a tree with baubles of her increasingly distant stare? No, not those Christmases, for there I found misery in company where I had only known it in solitude, and was all the worse for it, for she gave me a heart only to let it break and decay.”

“Or what of the Christmas where she left me? Shattered our contract, right there in park. She didn’t even look at me until the words ‘I release you, Ebenezer,’ left her lips. She left me there, completely alone save for the coins in my pocket! The second she stopped being the complete and total center of my existence, the moment I had to share the space on altar to her with the financial needs of our lives, she refused to understand me, to love me, and it destroyed me. I walked out of that park past carolers and happy children playing in the snow, unable to relate to any of them. Some babe born in a pig sty millennia ago and they’re out singing in the snow! Bah! Humbug!”

“I lost myself in my work. Marley, my only real companion, you couldn’t call him a friend. But the cruel fates took him from me on your precious Christmas as well, seven years ago this day! Don’t you see, nephew? Christmas for others may be a time of reconciliation, of loved ones coming together. For me, it is a day of loved ones being cruelly separated. For me, this is a day of humiliation at the hands of my father, rejection at the hands of Belle, solitude at the hands of Marley. It is a day of tears being repressed and somber memories and thoughts discarded. How else could a man like I survive? To open myself up to the world, to Christmas, is to only invite pain. The only way to endure is to refuse to feel.”

“Perhaps when you are an older, wiser man, [...]]]> “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!”, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.

“Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!”

He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.

“Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?”

“I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.”

“Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.”

Scrooge stopped writing and looked up at his nephew with a stare as cold as the air in the bleak counting house. “Christmas,” said the old miser, “is nothing but a reminder of the inevitable passage of time, an anniversary upon which the fates decide to heap another tragedy upon my life.”

The nephew took a seat as the old man continued, his voice barely concealing a cruel cynical laugh of contempt. “How should I celebrate Christmas, then? Shall I spend the evening alone with my books, as I did as a child? While every other student of the boarding school was fattening himself upon roasts and candied fruits, I was in solitude save for Ali Babba taking sanctuary from your grandfather, a man who held me a grudge for killing my mother in childbirth. My first Christmases were full of pain and disappointment, watching your mother open lavish gifts while I received nothing but my father’s bitter wisdom. ‘The gift of life should be enough for you, Ebenezer,’ he would say. ‘Heaven knows we paid enough for it and have yet to profit from the exchange.’ No, no Christmas of my youth should serve as template for celebration.”

A tear was at the corner of the nephew’s eye, eyes so like his mother’s. She too would cry come Christmas and would secretly offer to share whatever she received with the young Ebenezer to try and keep his spirits up. But he always refused. It was the name slot on the tags he wanted, not the gifts inside. Inside, the nephew felt a burning surge of empathy for the old man; he knew what it was like to be blamed for the death of one’s mother.

“I suppose I had one happy Christmas, at old Fezziwig’s fabric store as an apprentice. He threw the most lavish of parties, especially considering he spent so little on it. I danced then, you know, and was known as being quite agile on my feet. And I met her, Belle, a beautiful young woman in appearance and soul. We danced, we laughed, we loved.”

A smile crept up on the old man, slowly working facial muscles long atrophied to the years. A small hope crept up inside the nephew, before being crushed. “But, the higher the rise, the greater the fall. I poured my soul into my work for her, to earn her, taking the small inheritance I received and lending it out, investing, to build a solid foundation for our future. Christmas after Christmas she expected me to seal our contract, and Christmas after Christmas I was unready. Those were years of building disappointment and a growing gap between us. Should I celebrate those Christmases? A toast to what I had once and lost due to time? Shall I roast a goose to honor the hours of silence that emerged? Or decorate a tree with baubles of her increasingly distant stare? No, not those Christmases, for there I found misery in company where I had only known it in solitude, and was all the worse for it, for she gave me a heart only to let it break and decay.”

“Or what of the Christmas where she left me? Shattered our contract, right there in park. She didn’t even look at me until the words ‘I release you, Ebenezer,’ left her lips. She left me there, completely alone save for the coins in my pocket! The second she stopped being the complete and total center of my existence, the moment I had to share the space on altar to her with the financial needs of our lives, she refused to understand me, to love me, and it destroyed me. I walked out of that park past carolers and happy children playing in the snow, unable to relate to any of them. Some babe born in a pig sty millennia ago and they’re out singing in the snow! Bah! Humbug!”

“I lost myself in my work. Marley, my only real companion, you couldn’t call him a friend. But the cruel fates took him from me on your precious Christmas as well, seven years ago this day! Don’t you see, nephew? Christmas for others may be a time of reconciliation, of loved ones coming together. For me, it is a day of loved ones being cruelly separated. For me, this is a day of humiliation at the hands of my father, rejection at the hands of Belle, solitude at the hands of Marley. It is a day of tears being repressed and somber memories and thoughts discarded. How else could a man like I survive? To open myself up to the world, to Christmas, is to only invite pain. The only way to endure is to refuse to feel.”

“Perhaps when you are an older, wiser man, when funerals outnumber birthdays, you’ll understand. Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”

“Keep it!” repeated Scrooge’s nephew. “But you don’t keep it.”

“Let me leave it alone, then,” said Scrooge. “Given my previous record with the holiday, the most I can hope for is that Christmas will return the favor of forced indifference! Good day, sir.”

There was a beat where nobody dared move. Then, the old man shouted, “I said, good day!”

The nephew turned to leave as Ebenezer returned to his books. The former exchanged forced pleasantries with Mr. Cratchit as he put his hat and coat back on. As he turned to leave, he stared back at his uncle one last time. “Merry Christmas, uncle.”

As the door squeaked closed, Mr. Cratchit could have sworn he faintly hear the old man whisper, “Merry Christmas,” in return, but was not sure of it and knew better than to ask.

That was the last time his nephew tried to invite the old man to Christmas dinner. The fates decided to honor Scrooge’s request and give him the Christmas gift of an uninterrupted sleep. Slowly, the years of pain corroded the man from the inside out and he died, years later than he should have. His nephew and Cratchit were the only ones at the wake. The nephew was particularly cold and distant, even for a burial: it was the first invitation to a funeral he had ever received.

(Jake / Paul) is seen as an outsider until he mates with a local girl and passes the right of manhood. Eager for vengeance against (the corporation / House Harkonen) for their brutal rape of the world for the precious (unobtanium / spice), a clear analogy for (oil / oil), (Jake / Paul) sets out to unite the tribes together for a final assault by mastering how to ride a (weird bird bat thing / weird worm thing). Despite all odds, the technologically inferior primitives defeat the technological might of their foes, liberating the world and ending happily.

Visually, the movie is stunning with (millions/thousands) spent on state-of-the-art effects. Highlights of the film include a (forgettable / amazing) soundtrack by (the guy who did the “Titanic” soundtrack / mother fucking Sting), cameos by (the sort of hot chick from “Aliens” / the bald captain from Star Trek), and the use of kick-ass looking (VTOL’s / ornithopters) for all transit needs.

(Avatar / Dune) is in theaters (now / 25 years ago)

Carrots are good for your vision… unless a few are stabbed in your eyes.

Vick’s Vapor Rub clears your air passages… unless it’s in your air passages.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away… unless the doctor conspires to poison your apples in a plot to make you dependent on his services so that he can milk your checkbook, in which case you’re likely to see the bastard for a good while.

It’s best to put your money where your mouth is… That way, when you accidentally choke on it, I can inherit your fortune.

Ignorance is bliss… Ignorance is also the reason people wander into traffic or take showers during electrical storms.

A little bit of sun never hurt anyone… yet.

The rhino virus is nothing more than the common cold… unless someone actually bothers to infect you with a stampede of rhinos. Then it becomes a lot more than the common cold.

Knowing is half the battle… unless what you know is that your gruesome defeat is inevitable. Then it’s just disheartening.

A healthy lifestyle includes eating three square meals a day… until the corners rupture the lining of your stomach.

Reach for the stars… if your dream is to vaporize instantly.

It’s good to stop and smell the roses… unless the roses belong to old Mrs. Winkler, and she unchains her rottweiler.

You have the right to bear arms… but the bear will likely maul you to death before you manage to remove them.

If at first you don’t succeed… then the only way to keep a perfect track record is to continue failing.

The night is always darkest before the dawn… Never tell that to a miner stranded in a cave in.

This land is my land. This land is your land… Time for a land war.

Milk helps build strong bones… but you can’t depend on it to make strong skyscrapers, I’ve learned.

Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn… but if there are women in Hell, then, yes, it does.

Giving is better than receiving… especially if it’s a sickness.

Life is like a box of chocolates. You often find it snuffed out and stale in a plastic bag, forgotten by the previous homeowner in the back of a closet.

4 out of 5 experts agree that volcanoes are lethal. The fifth expert was killed in a pyroclastic flow.