Mash-ups part 1

We haven't played too much "standard" D&D of late. Rather, we been doing some genre-hopping, based mostly on the movies the kids have been consuming. We've been playing a lot of things CALLED D&D, which has come to mean "semi-interactive narrated story," and bleeds over into the various kinds of bedtime stories we tell.

Those bedtime stories are worth a mention, because it's where the mash-up concept kicks in. We don't have a TV, but our kids watch plenty of video anyway, it's just packaged up as movies. They have their favorites, and they go through phases. For R, the favorites are things like Dora and Scooby Doo. For E, at the moment, Spy Kids, or at other times, Godzilla or Lord of the Rings.

In any case, I get asked a lot for bedtime stories, and generally I'm asked to set them in the worlds of one or another of these movie universes. At least initially, E. tended to ask for stories that closely paralleled the plot of whatever he'd just watched, or indeed exactly paralleled it absent some small distinctions of character names or whatever. But as time has gone on, tastes have gotten more sophisticated, and variety has become at first tolerated, and now, I think, embraced.

Initially we only had variation within genres. For example R: "Dad, tell me a Scooby Doo story. First we have to figure out what the monster is!" (There is always a monster, and it always has to be a REAL monster, never one of these lame, plastic-mask "and we would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for ..."). At first the monsters were prosaic, such as the Giant Scorpion, but more recently I've tested the boundaries of common sense and sanity with the Giant Three-Headed Fire-Breathing Mummy Beetle, the Terror Rug, and of course the Giant Walnut-Eating Doughnut Manhole Cover. (Hint: if you see an innocent looking manhole cover covering an innocent-looking manhole, but there are some telltale walnut shells nearby, run).
This is all still genre-bound. But then I get E, after a binge on YouTube Godzilla clips: "Dad, do a story of Scooby Doo meets Godzilla!" OK, I warn him -- but it'll be a short one. Why? You'll see. Predictable developments ensue. :-)

"Dad, no! They work TOGETHER, and they have to fight Mothra, or some other Godzilla monster! Wait, can Gamera be in it?" OK, this is going to be some work.

Telling stories that just repeat movie plots can be a bit dull, or, when I don't actually KNOW the story, very slow, as someone feeds me the plot bit by bit in whispers as I tell the tale, like an inefficient prompter. But producing genre mash-ups on the fly can truly tax the storytelling engine.

Recently, the thing has been Spy Kids. These, by the way, are pretty decent kid movies, long on captivating details and short on things mean or sophomoric. Pretty entertaining. So we've watched a lot of Spy Kids.

But another thing, for E, has been discovering a book I had lying around (ah, the stuff that lies around), full of concept art and screenshots for Halo. Now I could wax eloquent about Halo, and its make Bungie Studios, for a fair bit of time, but "great first person shooter" sums it up quickly. We're trying to keep our kids off computer games for now. E. grasps that Halo is a game, but (happily) doesn't yet grasp (what do I know, maybe he does??) that a lot of the pictures are taken straight from the game, and occur during play. And boy was I tempted to show him, because it's a great game, but I forbore. Instead I just answered his questions about the various alien races and how they related to each other, and tried to explain why Halo 2 is not as good as Halo, and the problems with sequels in general.

All well.

So it gets to be bedtime of a recent evening. E hops up into bed. I expect I might get pressed for a story, and I do.

"Dad! Tell a Spy Kids Halo story!"

Whoa! Spy Kids / Halo, eh? My hear is in my throat. Carmen and Juni will last about five seconds against the Covenant elites.

But by gum, if I can manage Scooby Doo and Godzilla with a happily ever after, Spy Kids Halo's gotta be within reach. Stay tuned.