The first thing I did in Skyrim was join a group of warriors called The Companions. They turned out to be werewolves. Then I became a werewolf. Then I was cured of being a werewolf by cutting off a witch’s head. Later, I realized I’d misread the instructions and the cure for being a werewolf is cutting off a witch in traffic.
I was so obsessed with werewolves as a kid I tried to convince a girl at summer camp that I’d made a wish during the full moon and was now part werewolf. That same girl pressed my hands together and told me that the lines in my palms connected to form the horns and goat face of Satan. Later that summer, we saw lightning strike the surface of a lake. She wore faded Ozzy Osbourne shirts and thick mascara. Much like Skyrim, with its vikings and dark gods asking for ritual sacrifices, she was so metal she made carving “Slayer” into your arm for the devil look like carving John Mayer lyrics into a devil’s food cake.
After The Companions, I joined the Thieves Guild. They mostly wanted me to steal gold candlesticks and whatnot. Guess they were getting ready to decorate Elton John’s piano. Every once in a while, I’d fight a dragon that would swoop down and perch on villagers’ houses and breathe ice on everything. To be fair, the dragon had just swallowed a Snoopy Sno Cone machine and was just trying to give the townspeople a frosty treat.
I hired a wizard who was hanging around on a bench by the door of an inn and gave him a powerful staff. Then we went down into a cave and killed some bandits. Usually, when you pay a man who’s been loitering in a motel lobby to take your staff, he charges extra to go deep into a dark hole, but this guy wanted a flat rate of 500 coins.
Then I joined The Dark Brotherhood, who gave me Shadowmere, a magic red-eyed horse who rose up from a pool of bubbling dark water. He’s one of the fastest horses in the game, probably because he’s so relaxed from smoking all that pot in a jacuzzi. I once watched the director’s commentary for the Method Man & Redman movie How High, and they were talking about how a scene with a donkey who got drunk and passed out was incredibly difficult because they “couldn’t get that donkey to lay down for shit.”
I also became the arch-mage of a college for wizards after destroying a sphere of magic electricity that was too powerful for its own good, which is also why I was kicked out of Spencer’s Gifts after kicking over a whole display of plasma globes.
Finally, I killed an ancient dragon who was hell bent on eating all the souls in the world. If souls taste anything like deviled eggs, I can’t say I blame him. The other day I went to a restaurant in Atlanta and ordered deviled eggs and they only gave me three deviled eggs in a big red basket. I guess they were trying to avoid putting all their eggs in one basket. Anyway, I learned a magic shout from some dead vikings (in Skyrim, not at the restaurant) and yelled at the dragon until he fell on the ground. Which is also the only way to get me to stop eating deviled eggs. Skyrim!