I Crave the Fistpunch
I crave the fistpunch. The moment when something happens that’s so awesome, I punch my fist in the air and yell “Yes!”
But it has to be earned.
It’s one of the main reasons I play RPGs. For the party to start to flee until the bard to screams a warcry and flings herself off a tress in a deadfall charge of a demon 10 CR above the party’s level. For the ace pilot to fly through the under-construction skyscraper to both shake off pursuit and clip a dangerous foe with a wingtip. For the adventuring party to discover the band of cultists are summoning an elder god RIGHT NOW, and it’s fight through ranks of hundreds of foes or watch the city go up in flames.
Books do it too (Baron James torches the city. The aging Druss stands on the battlements to hold them to the last. The Solarion League discovers they no longer hold total technological military superiority.) Much more rarely so do movies (“YAHOOOOO! You’re all clear, kid. Now let’s blow this thing and go home.”) and televisions shows (“Times up… rules change.”)
LARPS actually do it really rarely… but when they do it’s cranked to 11. Very very rarely, sports manage it. Real life almost never does.
But wow, do I crave the fistpunch…