Long Story #5: Intelligence is a Dump Stat (Part 2)

((Continued from Part 1) "And now I'm gonna swing at the mean lady!" The little boy chirped from his chair, delighted to no longer be considered a total dummy. He giddily tossed his d20 down and did a little cheer as Ralph confirmed an impact. "..Unfortunately, now that you're a little kid, your attacks do significantly less damage. Morgana takes two points." That was so unfair! He was supposed to be a super strong warrior! Barry puffed out his cheeks and sulked, while the rest of the players took their turns. Once it got back to him, he was looking at his character sheet, desperate to find something he could do some damage with. "..Ooh! Oooh! I'm gonna use my rage thingy! Go all burr-zurk!" Barry grinned, bouncing up and down in his wooden chair, paying the warm wet squish of his soggy diaper no mind. "Yeah, yeah, settle down spaz. Let's see...With your current age affliction, you can still use it, but you need to roll a save." The excitable boy tossed his d20 again, and fortunately got high enough to activate his feat. Next he decided to use a feat that'd allow him to attack multiple times! He missed his first roll, and then his second, and he was starting to look pretty irate about it. What a waste of a turn! His big brother gave him a little smile, "That's okay, you'll get her next turn." No such luck. By the third round of combat, and with his buff about to run out, he was starting to get angry. "Attack again! I gotta hit her this time!" "...That's a one. Your barbarian becomes so enraged that he again fills his undergarments with hot droppings, making Morgana laugh and mock you." Tears begin to well in Barry's eyes, primarily out of frustration and indignant fury. "THAT'S NOT FAIR! I WANNA HIT HER! YOU'RE NOT PLAYIN' RIGHT!" Barry had begun his own tantrum, slamming his hands onto the table and sitting on his knees in the chair. He leaned forward, teary eyes narrowed and gap-toothed grimace bared. "YOU GUYS ARE JUS' PICKIN' ON ME!" He shrieked. In his noisy fervor, he'd started to pepper his soggy seat with short gassy rasps and sputtering. "WANNA WIN!" The fuming boy whined, right as a parade of poopies began to loudly march into his puffy Pamps. "Oh, eww, gross! Alex, your baby brother is crappin' himself again!" Terry groaned, preemptively pinching his nose. Alex sighed and began to stand up out of his chair. "I think we might need to call it a session for tonight...*Baby* Barry is getting cranky, and it's past his beddy-bye time anyway." The now teenaged boy came over to his erupting wreck of a brother and began to forcibly lift him from his chair, "Come on, stinky. Let's get you changed and back home..." Alex turned to face the rest of the group, "Sorry again, guys. I keep trying to tell my parents that Barry isn't mature enough to be hangin' with us, but you know how loud he gets when he wants something." Alex pulled back the waistband of the younger boy's shorts, "Oof...Your barbarian isn't the only big pooper. Maybe I'll just let you stew for now and let mom take care of you when we get back home...You're probably not done yet anyways." The pair began to make their leave, with Barry still fussing and sobbing about how unfair the big kids were being to him. Ralph gathered their character sheets and handed them off to Alex. "Next time your brother makes a character, make sure he actually knows what he's doing. Just because he's playing a fighter doesn't mean he needs to use intelligence as a, uh.." Alex grinned and gave the fussy boy's padded bottom a squishy squeeze, "...A *dump* stat? Yeah, but you know how dumb kids are."