Arrogant Armageddon and scuzzy narrators

In case you haven't heard, I'm turning our world of hyper-hubris into a pen and paper setting.  It's looking to be a lot of fun, easy to get into, and a setting where your friends can make jokes while staying in character.  A setting steeped in the absurd deserves some similarly ridiculous rulebook content, right?  I think reading the setting information for a pen and paper game should foreshadow the feel of playing.  Give your players a sense of what they'll be doing once they're around the table together.  With that in mind, I've been able to write some really fun setting explanations.  Here's a taste of the sort of "authority figures" that exist in Arrogant Armageddon so that players see what a sideways and silly place they're going to inhabit.  This may literally be page 1 of the book.  Enjoy!  

- Excerpted from the Book of Perry, The Best Scholar in the World to Ever Bang-A-Rang Your Moms -

It is one hell of an absolute goddamn unlikelihood that this book would ever be written, much less that I’d be the son of a bitch puttin’ pen to pad, much-much less that any piece of fuck would take the time to read it.  Being the best ever at reading didn’t get anyone very far after the Arrogant Armageddon—not unless you’re one of those Libearians, that is.  

Does a bear shit in the woods?  Not if them assholes have anything to say about it.  They’d have it so as they was only taking grizzly dumps in the Libeary of Congress.  Or Congrizzly, more like.  

But like I was saying, why am I even bothering to write this?  Chances are, you can’t read it.  You’re probably shitting in the woods and using it for toilet paper.  I don’t blame ya.  The world ends, you still gotta shit.  

But like I was saying, those Libearians were absolute day-ruiners.  You’d wake up thinking you knew where Denver was, or thinking that it wasn’t infested by a sky-load of Pbearodactyls, but you’d be unbelievably fucking wrong about that now, wouldn’t you?  And you definitely didn’t wake up thinking that the practitioners of the urcane arts, the grizzards, were claw-njuring up a maulstrom of puns n’ rage lightning right outside your backdoor, but guess what--that’s where Denver is now, and you’re about to have your day ruined by all that shit I just said.  

And don’t forget, I bang-a-ranged your moms.  The best.

Not that this whole book is about what a bunch of arrogant pricks bears are.  You’re gon’ have to reckon with a whole smorgasbord of pricks, coming in all flavors.  If you thought professional athletes were  full of themselves before, you have no idea what a ‘roider will do these days.  They’ll flex so hard they grow two extra arms out their backs just to challenge you to a game of soccer, tennis, hockey, and friggin’ jai alai--all at the same time.  And don’t go tellin’ them you don’t use your arms in soccer.  That’s just beggin’ to choke on some mighty big balls there, squish-stuff.  

But like I was saying, and here’s the real point of this ramble—here’s a tome of what is.  What remains.  And all the unbelievabilities that have come to be.  

Welcome to a few short months from whenever you’re reading this.  There’s gonna be a whole lot of bear shit coming your way, and more than a few basketballs, lepers, and shit-faced villains to leave in your wake.  

Welcome to the U.S. of Arrogance, ya piece of fuck.