The company follows the monkey to the basement. The power was on, the monkey figured, and that meant that the place had a generator.
And so it did. An AlwaysSafe ™ personal Nuclear Power generator.
The monkey was, naturally, overjoyed. He couldn’t ask for more, and practically begs the maintenance robots to rig up the generator to blow.
One of them straight up fails knowing anything about nuclear physics – it’s an amusement park repair robot, after all – and the other knows just enough to make the thing explode.
So the smaller maintenance robot, the same that soddered Hill-Bunny’s head, got to work.
After a few rolls at increasing difficulty, she managed to set the reactor to have a 100% chance to explode, but only a 90% chance of going off in two days, when she wanted it to. Her layman’s grasp of amusement park nuclear physics told her that, if done properly, this thing could take out the whole town.
I asked the party if I should roll to see if it would go off now. One of the players, the guy who played the other maintenance droid, joked, “No, you should probably roll hourly.”
Sounds fair, I told him with a smile, and picked up a d10 and rolled it behind my screen. On a one, I said, it’d go off.
4. Well, so far so good for the first hour. I wouldn’t tell them, but they were safe for an hour. I decided to roll for hour two.
1. Well. Shit. Maybe that was a fluke, let’s just reroll that.
1. Okaaaaay. Definitely a fluke. One more reroll.
1. Okay, fuck, dice. You win. They die in two hours.
I looked up at them with a poker face.
“So how about that nuclear reactor?”