A Funny Story About Game's Workshop

So, there are two game stores in my area where one can purchase 40k merchandise. Both are twenty minutes away in opposite directions. One, Griffin Games in Greenfield (everything's a field in Massachusetts) absolutly rocks. It's what you'd expect in a game store: big selection, numerous titles, four tables, book cases full of scnery, etc.. The other is a GW store in a mall. It's one of those tiny stores too. It has two tables, both are maybe 4'x4', and I'm stressing maybe. And they generally have a game set up so that they can teach barely intersted (and slightly astonished) people how to play the game by pitting a squad of space marines versus a land speeder.

The other day I contacted both stores to determine whether they would be interested in my services. The guy at Griffin Games was out on vacation so...cross your fingers...but the guy at GW was in.

Me: "So, do you guys ever have people make scenery for your store."
Them: "No."

That was about it, but it reminded me of a funny story which I would like to now share.

Okay, so the funny story happenned awhile back. I had managed to purchase two Obliterators off of Ebay and the third one arrived in the mail but it was the old kind (will those work as Termies?) and so in my disappointment, I broke with my plan to slowly build up my Obliterators on the cheap. No, I don't play Iron Warriors (grumble grumble frickin' cheaters grumble).

So, I walk into the GW store on a Saturday afternoon and it's loaded with twelve year old guys who could probably come up with better shit to play on at their house, but you know...it's a GW store...it's official. So anyway, they're all huddled around a table watching a squad of Orks charge...whatever (anything's charge range if the table's small enough!) and there's a mother and her son on the other side of the store, and the son is attempting to convey to his mother how necessary it is for her to buy him a Necron battleforce or some shit like that, and the big owner of the store (and I do mean big!) is attempting to run the battle for the kids while two register jockeys in their red shirts (which is unfortunate because the store is just outside the exit of Target and it really looks as though they've escaped, or that Target has started selling 40k stuff). Anyways, the two red shirts are up there looking smug because they know if they were playing the Orks they would have charged a different enemy. Yey team.

So, one spots me over at the shelving unit marked "Chaos" and he siddles up because I'm the first male adult he's seen in the store for a while. I am obviously NOT a mother listening to some argument that ends with her $60 lighter, nor am I one of the kids at the table, of whom only one will buy a Terminator and that will be that for this week. Oh no no no, I have money. I can afford to spend bucku bucks. Just as importantly, I look like I know what I'm doing. Chances are I'll be buying something impressive. So, here he comes, offering "Can I help you?"

I resist the urge to plead, "Look, I used to play Squats, now I play Eldar. You're not going to discontinue that army too are you?" After all, this red shirt, he is not the face of evil. He is, at best, a Nurgling to Grandfather GW in Nottingham or some crap where they have absolutely lost their frickin' minds.

This is what I honestly say to him, "Hey, yeah I'm looking for the Obliterators. I've got two, I need a third. I was trying to, you know, wait for one to come up on cheap on Ebay..." he looked around nervously hoping that no one heard me mention the dreaded E word, "but I'm tired of waiting. I'll tell you, with prices in these stores going up and up, it's hard to justify buying the lead, but sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do. I can't paint the Obliterators unitl I have that third one, so I guess I'm willing to break down and pay the $20."

His reply, no shit: "They're $25, they raised the price last week."

And that was when I kind of lost it.

"My God, is the company going out of business."

He looks around knowing that the trouble is starting.

"$25 for a piece of lead are you crazy? I could cast twenty of them for that price."

Really, it's getting ugly and he hurries me over to the register as I go into good old days mode. "I remember when I could buy twenty space marines for $30 and Rhinos came three to a box for $25." Which, by the way, they did.

He rings me up and I walk out of there with my $25 miniature with the stares of confusion from a group of twelve year olds, and a nice mother who suddenly realizes just how senseless her son has become. Hopefully she bought him that Battleforce on Ebay.

Anyways, two weeks later I go to my game night and who should show up but the red shirt guy who was trying to usher me out of the store. He tells me that he doesn't blame me, that he doesn't much like GW either and he doesn't mind that people are mad at the company.

The thing is though, he doesn't really mean it, and I launch into another tirade about how GW going out of business would be the best thing for the game. You'd finally be able to afford the minis and there wouldn't be the threat of another "edition" of rules every two years.

It is then that I find out why the GW employees are so fiercely loyal to the company they work for. They pay for bits by the pound. They pay like a tenth of what the rest of us pay. That's their employee discount. That's crazy.

I'm fairly sorry that the GW store does not want to buy my scenery. Mine looks better than there's. Had they said, "come on down and we'll take a look," they could of put me on payroll or at least given me the employee discount, but too bad.

Last time we were in there they had three deli trays from a dollar store put together with four cardboard tubes from wrapping paper that were supposed to be elevators and all of this was set on a black base with clear glossy plastic over it. It looked horrible. I said nothing. I stay to their display case now looking at the miniatures all lit up with beautiful day bulbs (which isn't exactly a trick, but it's sneaky nonetheless). My wife looked at the scenery and said, "You should tell them how to make scenery honey." I thought the red shirt standing next to the scene was going to choke. He'd built it and up until she said something he was all but beaming with pride.