Jo walks into the room, twenty minutes late, weighed down by a disorganised stack of papers half as tall as they are. The players, already at the table, look upon with some concern.
“Would you… like a hand with that?” Ali begins.
Jo shakes their head, “No, no, I’m OK. Sorry I’m late, sorry I’m late!” they mutter as they set their GM prep down at the table and try to organise it into something approaching comprehensibility. Although they attempt contrition their eyes gleam with the fire of inspiration.
Sid shrugs. Robin gestures dismissively.
Rory laughs, “Don’t worry Jo, it’s chill.”
Jo rummages for something in their stack of papers for a few minutes. With a dramatic flourish they slam a portfolio full of character briefs in front of them. They look between their players, a broad grin on their face.
“Look I had a really good idea, and we’re just going to change the direction of the campaign -ever- so slightly.”
Jo proceeds to slide the players’ new character sheets around.
…
The players begin reading their briefs…
…
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE PLAYING THE DRAGONS NOW?”
Six hours later.
Jo slumps, exhausted, at their desk. They look over to their stack of preparation and shake their head. They slowly push the mass of paper into the bin. Pages of small town legal trials, tourism agencies, plot arcs about the futility of violence as a mechanism to effect social change… all of it irrelevant now.
They sigh.
No plan survives contact with the players.