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Desolation & Desperados runs on randomness like a rat rod revving on homebrewed ethanol. It’s the fever dream of an Ork Weirdboy. It’s cheap, fast and out of control.

Desperados walk a landscape pummeled by shells, burned by radiation, soaked in toxic effluent, and buzzing with nanites. Hanging over the world is an orange/brown haze; the sky pulses with puke green vapors and black ash. The desolate badlands are home to mutants who grow like weeds and die like gnats. A desperado’s life is nasty, brutish and short, but full of sturm und drang.

Desolation & Desperados turns Gamma World up to eleven. It’s a game world that allows you to make your own guns, including that minigun you’ve torn out of Arnold’s dead hands—just watch out, “it gets hot” and might blow up in your face.

Images from the wasteland:
My Little Pony munches on Alvin the Chipmunk’s spilled guts.
Rat Fink is 10’ tall, hopped up on meth made from morlock tongues and scrounged mine tailings, and drives a tank.
Sting is the undead love slave of a mutant rhinopig. Who knows what they get up to behind that rusted blast door.

Resources:
the amazing 830-entry Table of Random Crap!
http://www.critical-hits.com/junkulator/#

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