Gunnar Chapman

For our most recent quarterly monster-slaying adventure, we chose the most dastardly-looking dungeon we had yet to encounter. It was a massive temple, at least twenty stories tall, constructed out of dark granite and pure silver. The monstrous pillars that made up the front entryway of the temple were lined with stone statues of fallen warriors, almost like a museum of trophies. 

We had prepared our strongest spells, potions, weapons, and armor and bravely entered, ready for the worst. To our surprise, the first floor was quiet. The lack of commotion was more ominous than any noise could have been. But there was nobody there. Nobody alive, at least. There were a couple of skeletons strewn about and had somebody already taken over this temple? No way. No party has ever been powerful enough to rival the Buffoons, and this temple frightened even us. We readied ourselves again as we climbed to higher floors of the temple, but we found nothing to threaten us. No living monsters, no untripped boobie traps. 

We were beginning to feel disappointed, until we were one floor beneath the top and we heard footsteps above us. Something was still there. Surely an opponent of great power, and surely they were guarding a rich reward. Slowly, quietly, we climbed the last flight of stairs. As we approached we could hear a slight crunching noise, as if somebody on the top floor were gnawing on the bones of their enemies. We burst through the door at the top, weapons ready, and there he stood. 

Gunnar Chapman, eating a bag of chips. At his feet, a mighty demon lay breathless. We stood in awe as he casually apologized for beating us to the dark temple. He offered some of his chips as solace. We were too impressed to say anything other than to ask him to come audition for us. One thing led to another, and now we keep him around for his beautiful baritone vocals, which are definitely not his monster-slaying capabilities.