D&D: 99 Problems and Liches Ain't One

[So all this talk about Tomb of Horrors got me thinking...]

Raging Owlbear: Hey Ace-... Ass-... However you pronounce that stupid ass name.

Acererak: It's a short "a"

RO: Whatever, Felicia. Anyway, what kind of imbecile would ever want to become a Lich?

Acererak: I will smite you to ash for your insolence.

RO: Lich, please. I'm the DM and can wipe your ass out of existence with a Sharpie. So now that we have that settled, you need to answer a few questions.

AC: FINE! whatever.

RO: In the Monster Manual it reads that Liches are powerful wizards that wish to avoid death... So they ritually kill themselves to become undead. WTF?

AC: You know, immortality and all...

RO: You dumb-ass Lich.

AC: Hey, that's uncalled for.

RO: You have access to freakin' 9th level spells and that's the best you can come up with? And you have to pledge servitude to some other planar power in order to become undead. F@ck that noise.

Haven't you bitches heard of Clone? It's only 8th level and you come back as a younger version of yourself with all your memories and skills. Seriously. Look it up.

Now don't you feel like a jackass for becoming an undead indentured servant?

AC: Well, in AD&D, Clone didn't quite work the same way...

F#ck, this bitch is heavy.

RO: Whatever. That's not the point. You're a freakin' master wizard. You have access to 9th level spells. Wishes... Potions of Longevity...  Hell, you could do some damn homework and make up your own spells such as a better version of Clone (which if you had just waited 40 years, would have come along anyway).

And what do you do all day? Wander around your f@cking tomb resetting all the traps every few days? You have to push that f@cking 5-ton elephant roller back into place every couple weeks when you could be rollin' down the street, smokin indo and sippin' on gin and juice with your homeys. You could be back at the tavern right now with your big ass wallet, buying rounds, and hittin' on the ladies.

AC: Now you're just being mean.

RO: I mean, you basically have the universe at your somatic fingertips and the best idea you had for immortality is to kill yourself. So now you just hang out in a damn tomb waiting for idiot adventurers. What kind of unlife is that? Are you some kind of nut bag shut-in? What a freakin' waste.

AC: Oh, shut up.

RO: Change that stupid name, Felicia. And talk to Vecna about leaving his body parts all over the place. Seriously. What's up with that?