Bob Jenkins "King of Other People's Garbage"

A multiplayer support deck for Bob Jenkins

or how to turn the Cosmic Apocalypse into a garage sale

Some people face the Mythos with forbidden spells, others with a steady stream of .45 caliber lead, and then there's Bob Jenkins, who faces the Cosmic Apocalypse armed with a mail-order catalog and the unshakable belief that everything has a buyer. While the rest of the group debates the fate of the universe, Bob is rummaging through the nearest trash can just in case some Ancient One dropped its wallet. And the most terrifying part of all: it works.

This isn't your typical traumatized survivor limping along on sheer desperation (well, a little bit, but with style). Bob has turned his personal trauma into a business model. Every discarded item, every abandoned clue, every "I don't need this anymore" from his teammates becomes, in his hands, ammunition, resources, free clues, or cold hard cash. The Ancient Ones may devour entire worlds, but Bob Jenkins will find a way to take a cut of the end of existence.

Hand/Asset — "What I throw away today, I sell to you tomorrow"

2x Lantern: the poor man's flashlight, the classic "something's better than nothing" for when the darkness of Innsmouth, Arkham, or wherever Bob has decided to stick his nose gets literally unspeakable. It doesn't light up much, but at least you get a good look at the face of the Horror about to eat you.

2x Gravedigger's Shovel: because nothing says "I'm ready for anything" like carrying around an undertaker's tool. Digs graves, digs up clues, digs up whatever's needed. It's the Swiss Army knife of a man whose entire contingency plan against the Mythos is, basically, a sturdy handle and a good shovel blade.

2x Newspaper: cheap, disposable information, perfect for someone whose life philosophy is "read it, use it, toss it, repeat." Bob learns the day's news a split second before he himself becomes the day's news.

Body — "Survivor fashion"

2x Leather Coat: sturdy, with plenty of pockets to stash all the junk Bob plans to resell later, and with just the right amount of style for someone who's survived more than one run-in with the unspeakable thanks, in part, to good lining. Functional, durable, and probably bought secondhand (with the appropriate discount, of course).

Ally — "Business contacts"

2x Mrs. Lopez: Bob's perfect business partner. While he hoards junk, she makes sure that piece of garbage you were about to toss becomes something useful for the rest of the team. She's living proof that in Arkham nothing gets thrown away — it gets reused, resold, or turned into the last line of defense against a Shoggoth.

Other — "The end-of-the-world catalog"

2x Schoffner's Catalog: the true dark heart of this deck. Need a weapon? A spell? Something that definitely shouldn't be legally sold through the mail? Bob has it, or gets it, or convinces you that you need it anyway. It's Amazon Prime, but with slightly more cursed shipping.

2x Recharge: Bob's entire philosophy summed up in one card. What's trash to everyone else is a second chance to him. The Ancient Ones have spent eons recycling entire universes; Bob just applies the same logic at pocket scale.

1x Shrewd Dealings: because even a scavenger sometimes needs to strike a deal with someone a bit more... eloquent. Nobody quite knows who Bob negotiates with to land these "bargains," and honestly, better not to ask.

Events (12) — "Everything sells, everything gets reused"

2x Lucky! + 2x "Look What I Found!": the ultimate lucky-scavenger duo. Bob doesn't go looking for treasure — treasure finds him, usually lying on the floor of some cursed basement nobody else would dare glance at twice.

2x Emergency Cache + 2x Bank Job: Bob's economy doesn't run on luck alone — he also knows how to rob a bank when the situation calls for it. After all, if the world's going to end anyway, might as well end it with a healthy bank balance.

2x Break In: getting into places you weren't invited, Bob's favorite hobby in his spare time (which, between Mythos and Ancient Ones, is getting scarcer by the day, but there he is, cheerfully picking locks anyway).

2x Scavenging: pulling back from the discard pile what everyone else had already written off as lost — the purest expression of the Jenkins philosophy. Nothing truly dies as long as Bob still feels like digging through the pile.

Skills (4) — "The resilience of a man who's already lost everything (and found it again)"

2x Take Heart: because even the most hardened scavenger occasionally needs a moment to pull himself together before unspeakable terror breaks something worse than his inventory.

2x Resourceful: the perfect generic skill for a man who makes do with whatever's on hand, literally. Bob doesn't need the perfect gear — he needs to know how to squeeze value out of whatever falls into his lap.

Verdict from the Unfathomable Archivist

This isn't the hero's deck that seals portals, nor the scholar's deck that decodes forbidden tomes. This is the deck of the man who, in the middle of the apocalypse, found his market niche. Bob Jenkins keeps the team stocked with resources, gear, and recycled clues while everyone else worries about saving the world (or, more realistically, surviving one more turn). He's the friend who always has "something around here somewhere" that'll come in handy — and who'll probably charge you for it, with a smile.

In a multiplayer campaign, this deck shines as the quiet engine that keeps everyone equipped and solvent, while Bob wanders through ruins and unspeakable horrors with the demeanor of a man doing inventory, not surviving the end of the world. The Ancient Ones may be unfathomable, eternal, and infinitely powerful, but I sincerely doubt any of them can haggle like Bob Jenkins.

Cosmic rating: 4 / 5 tentacles (Docked one tentacle because sooner or later, someone in the group is going to realize he sold them their own gun back for a second time.)

Final word from the abyss: somewhere out past the edge of the universe, Azathoth blindly gnaws at the fabric of reality, indifferent to gods, worlds, and the screaming of the damned — and even it, in its idiot cosmic hunger, would think twice before trying to out-negotiate Bob Jenkins over the resale value of its own throne. The Great Old Ones spent millennia perfecting the art of ending civilizations; Bob spent about a week perfecting the art of billing them for the cleanup afterward. In the end, the universe doesn't fear the man who can kill a monster. It fears the man who can find a buyer for the corpse.