POST-APOCALYPTIC RURAL CHAOS

GRASSLANDS
UDDER MAYHEM

G.P. MAYEr
1
2
GRASSLANDS
UDDER MAYHEM

UNOFFICIAL GASLANDS SUPPLEMENT

This book is an unofficial supplement for GASLANDS REFUELLED. Gamers will need
the official GASLANDS book in order to utilize this supplement. This book was made by
fans, for fans. Absolutely no money will be made from this, and it is not for sale.
GASLANDS is property of OPSREY GAMES.

MMXXI
3
1
 Credits
AUTHOR/EDITOR – G.P. Mayer

MODELERS – G. Campbell

Gary Jones

Juuso Kälviäinen
Mathieu C. Rosa

Spandex Wizard

COSPLAYERS – G.P. Mayer (Der Klutchman)

V. Niday (Buckshot Diesel)

D. Rich (Slappy McFadden)

M. Steve (the Nurnberger)

V.N.M. (Emeralda)

e-Publishing Technician – Jake Hadly

+ Special Thanks to the Tabletop Campaign Respository

https://tcrepo.com/

1
2
 Contents
INTRODUCTION……………………………………………………………….1

FACTIONS………………………………………………………………...…….8
- McFadden
- The Mekkonites
- Slaughterhouse 9
- United Dairy Fascists
- Road Invaders

NEW GOODIES…………………………………………………………….....29
- Livestock Obstacles
- Front Loaders

VEHICLES…………………………………………………………………….30
- Dirtbike
- Four-wheeler
- UTV
- Zero Turn Mower
- Tractor
- Performance Tractor
- Heavy Tractor
- Bus
- Heavy Truck
- Shuck-a-Saurus

VEHICLE CHARTS……………………………………………….………….41

COURSES……………………………………………………………………...42
- Toilet Bowl
- Butter Churn
- Hellhole
- Meaner Pastures

MODELING……………………………………………………………………46
1
SCENERY…………………………………………………………………….103

VEHICLE CARDS…………………………………………………………...104

MOVEMENT TEMPLATES………………………………………………..109

TOKEN TEMPLATES………………………………………………………110

DICE LABELS…………………………………………………………….….111

FAQS……………………………………………………………………….….112

AFTERWORD…………………………………………………………….….113

ONE LAST THING…………………………………………………………..114

2
INTRODUCTION
The Cold War of the 1980s ended exactly as most predicted, with nuclear
apocalypse. Death and destruction rained down on over half the planet, and the
survivors were forced to scavenge a meager life in the radioactive wastelands. Some
turned to the remaining cities to find work or participate in the popular
GASLANDS racing circuit.

The rural areas were forced to fend for themselves, and resourceful farmers found
ways to manage the radioactive land, where herds of mutant boars pillage the
countryside and hissing needle-grass can dissolve a man in seconds flat. Greed,
aggression, and sheer boredom gave birth to a new racing circuit where tractors and
other farming vehicles careen around treacherous terrain, trying to outrun and
outright murder the competition.

Welcome to the GRASSLANDS.

3
 Using this book
GRASSLANDS is to be used in conjunction with GASLANDS REFUELLED. All
weapons and relevant perks from GASLANDS may be used for the vehicles in this book.
Normal limitations apply, as no faction in GRASSLANDS may use Mishkin exclusive
weapons. Use common sense when confronted by technical questions, and always keep
the spirit of the game in mind.

In the back of this book are movement and token templates provided for free by Osprey.
They are available on the official GASLANDS website as well. The dice labels are
custom made and should be measured and stretched/shrunk in WORD or a similar
program to verify they are the proper size before printing. Lastly, there are printable stat
cards for all the vehicles. On each card is a blank space next to ‘Hazards’ and ‘Current
Gear’, so that gamers may place a d6 there to keep track.

We hope you enjoy this book, and we will be producing more supplements in the future.

7
 Mcfadden
In the desolate mountains of West Virginia and Kentucky, the McFadden clan rules the
land with a crystal fist. These lunatic hillbillies have garnered obscene wealth due to their
manufacture and distribution of deadly drugs, which are highly sought after in the
dystopic wastelands of the ruined earth. Clan patriarch, Slappy McFadden, takes orders
from the grotesque Ma’ McFadden and earns extra profit from participating in races all
through the GRASSLANDS. McFadden and his mountain men love nothing more than
attempting maniacal jumps during races, and care little for the risks of pulling off such
dangerous stunts. Shouts of “Yee Haw!” often proceed a McFadden vehicle flying off
into the spectators and bursting into flames.

Despite running the most successful narcotics operation on earth, all is not well within
the family. Slappy and his son, Big Bad Benny McFadden, are at odds with each other
over some personal conflicts. As is the case with hillbillies, this quickly developed into a
full-blown feud. Now the two sides are firmly entrenched in a deadly difference of
opinion. Slappy and his mountain men usually show up to races with their endless legions
of dirt bikes and ATVs, whereas Big Bad Benny and his boys prefer the increased killing
power of buses and hay trucks. The two factions will kill each other at the drop of a hat,
but will still join sides to race against a common enemy. Lately, there have been rumors
that McFadden and Rusty’s Bootleggers are trying to hammer out details for a crossover
race in the mountains of Tennessee, but nothing has been confirmed.

 Perk Classes: Daring and Precision

Teams sponsored by McFadden gain the following Sponsor Perks:

 Lawn Ornaments: Most properties in the mountains of McFadden territory have old
school buses in their front yards. The team may have one bus.

 “Yeeee Haw”: McFadden and their fans love nothing more than big vehicles flying
through the air. Any middle or heavyweight vehicle that successfully lands a jump,
earns the team a vote.

8
A young boy with no shoes and raggedy overalls ran through the woods, careful to
avoid needle grass and the ever-present danger of jackalopes, the highly aggressive
and ravenous mutant rabbits that were so common in the mountains. His name was
Mancil McFadden and he still had most of his teeth, which was unusual for a boy of
12 years. His mission was to reach Bowltown, a small encampment on the western
fringe of the McFadden territory, and deliver news to Slappy McFadden, the
favored kin of Ma’ McFadden. Most everyone had the same last name around these
parts.

Upon reaching the dilapidated camp, he saw men and women clad in homemade
clothes, their faces covered in dark blue soot. Some were at work, pouring liquid
and powdered chemicals along with shredded tinfoil into old toilets; others were
passed out on the ground with various glass pipes and syringes strewn about.
Copper vats had been very hard to come by these last few years. Rusty and his
Bootleggers seem to have bought up what few of them remained. The good news was
that old toilets were available in ample supply, and the “cooks” used them as
oversized mixing bowls to create their vaunted “mountain meff”. Slappy sat on a
rocking chair with a long piece of hay dangling from the side of his mouth while he
whittled away at a chunk of wood, apparently carving a gun.

‘Hey Slappy!’ the young boy called out. ‘Ma’ wants to be talkin to ya. She seemed
powerful serious, best be heading that way.’

‘Whatcha talkin bout, youngin? Cantcha see I’m busy?’

‘I ain’t foolin about, Mr. Slappy. She told me it was all urgent and such.’

Slappy closed his pocketknife and stood up, ‘Dangit all! If it ain’t one thing, tis
another. This here batch was just about done too. I say dangit!’

Slappy approached Ma’s hovel of plywood and sheet metal with caution. It was
always wise not to anger Ma’. She was a renowned sharpshooter who had killed
dozens over the years during family feuding. Her temper was notorious. He slowly
pushed open the door made from old street signs. A shriveled hag sat on a rickety
couch covered in cat hair and duct tape. She was smoking something in her corncob
pipe that smelt of burnt plastic. Where her teeth had once been, rusty bolts had
been haphazardly screwed into her gums by ol Doc Kratchet, the resident dentist.
Sparse patches of white hair halfway covered her wrinkled head, which looked like
rotting leather.

9
‘Slappy, I need you to deliver a couple of things to the Heartland. The Nurnberger
done paid for two barrels of our product. I also need ya to deliver this to him,
personally.’ She handed Slappy a folded piece of paper.

‘What’s this, Ma’?

‘It’s an invite to our next race. We’re gonna give them crazy-ass psychos a good ol
fashion butt-whoopin.’

‘Can’t we send Wilbur instead? I had to go last time.’

‘Boy, I done chose you. Now git on down the road.’

‘But Ma’, the last time I ha……’

‘I said GIT!’ Ma’ shouted as she blew off Slappy’s right earlobe with her .38 special.
Because Slappy was her favorite son, he at least got a warning. Slappy reached up
and touched where his earlobe had been.

‘Aw shucks, Ma’, I was fixin to leave. No need to be all un-civil like.’

Slappy and his cousin, Clovus,

loaded up the barrels into one of
their precious few heavy trucks, on
old moving van, then made the six-
hour journey north from the
mountains, through Ohio, and into
Indiana. While going through
Ohio, they had come under attack
from numerous Mekkonite
ambushes. At the last race, Slappy
and Der Klutchman engaged in a
little pre-race taunting. The
gigantic Mekkonite had tried to
gut Slappy with a pitchfork, but
thought better of it when the
McFadden patriarch fired off a
warning shot from “Pappy’s
Shotgun”.

Despite the former Midwest, now called “the GRASSLANDS”, being a perpetual

10
dingy grey from the haze of a nuclear winter, the sky seemed to get progressively
darker as the truck entered Slaughterhouse 9 territory. Everywhere one looked,
there were sharpened pikes protruding from the ground with a rotting heart
adorning each. Where once corn fields had thrived, vast fields of impaled hearts
stood as far as the eye could see; some hearts looked bovine, others looked human.
They had entered “the Heartland”. Strange totems made of various bones hung
from every sign as they danced about in the cold autumn breeze. Clovis buttoned up
his burlap jacket and looked over at Slappy.

‘Cuz, this dang place done give me the creeps. How long are we fixin to stay here?’

‘Well, as ya unload the barrels, I gotta find the Nurnberger and give him this here
note. Ma’ was very insistent-like.’

‘Is that what happened to yer ear?’

‘Yep, she done made her point with an ol Model-A when I back-talked her. Serves
me right, I s’pose. Lookey there! I see the building, grab yer boomstick and be ready
fer anything, you.

The hastily armored truck came to a halt in front of a vast complex of long metal
buildings that served as slaughterhouses. Each one had a large number painted in
blood on the sides. One building stood out from the rest, as it had a domineering
belltower fastened to the roof. On the belltower, was a dark red ‘9’. Even though the
entire complex looked deserted, the horrifying screams, animalistic howls, and the
gunning of chainsaw engines proved otherwise. It made a nightmarish cacophony
that would haunt one’s dreams. Dead leaves from diseased trees blew through the
muddy streets as Slappy looked around for someone to verify the Nurnberger’s
location. He noticed a small girl with blonde pigtails and a black dress sitting in the
mud with her back to him; she appeared to be playing with a doll and was giggling
intensely.

‘Hey youngin! Can ya tell me whereabouts the Nurnberger is?’

The girl just kept playing and laughing as if she had not heard him. Slappy
approached cautiously and gripped his 12 gauge tightly.

‘You there, girl! I say, where’s the Nurnberger?’ He walked around to face her and
instantly froze in terror. The girl’s face was covered in a mask of tanned skins sewn
together with black wire. The skins were all different colors, and a patch of it even
had a “UDF” tattoo. The doll was a beat-up Raggedy Ann that looks like it had been
through hell. The middle of the doll’s torso was ripped open, and the girl was

11
joyfully tearing out red and orange yarn which apparently symbolized the doll’s
intestines.

‘Listen up! Tell me where the Nurnberger is, and I’ll give ya this here wooden
nickel.’

The girl quit giggling and intensely stared at the nickel Slappy held in his open
palm. Without taking her eyes off the prize, she silently pointed to a squat building
that was painted black, with various animal and human skulls placed all around the
perimeter. He flipped her the nickel. When she caught it, the masked girl violently
rammed it into the doll’s throat and laughed maniacally.

The rotting door blew open and shut at the whim of the wind, which made a loud
creaking noise. As he timidly entered, Slappy saw that the building was void of any
light source, save the doorway. Dozens of
rusty chains ending in dirty meathooks,
hung from the ceiling. Some of the hooks
still had foul smelling chunks of flesh on the
end. The dreadful symphony from rustling
chains in the wind only heightened the sense
of terror. Slappy now held his rifle with
white knuckles.

‘Nurny? You there?’

A faint breathing could now be heard; not

the breathing of a normal person, but the
staccato rasping of a dying man gasping his
last breaths. The breathing seemed to be
coming from multiple directions, but one
thing was for sure, it was getting closer.

‘Ya best show yerself, Nurny! I have half

the mind to blow yer frikkin head clean off,’
Slappy said as he swung his gun side to side,
desperately trying to spot his nemesis. Despite the cold breeze, sweat ran down his
face. He started to backpedal and bumped into hanging chains, making them chime
loudly. The breathing got louder and faster.

The wind once again blew the door open and Slappy could make out a grimy hockey
mask and the gleam of a machete, less than six feet in front of him.
12
 ‘Holy boar balls!! How the hell did ya do that, all sneaky-like?’ Slappy screamed as
he quickly took aim with his shotgun.

The Nurnberger was tall and thin, wearing a blood-red sweatshirt and leather
apron. Most of his face was obscured by a hockey mask used by goalies; the type
made popular in the 70s and early 80s. His
chest heaved as he struggled to breathe from
a mouth no living soul had ever seen. In his
left hand, the monstrosity held a viscous
looking machete with serrations; it had seen
years of cutting meat and bone. In his right
hand, he held a long shovel wrapped in a
towel that dripped liquid. Slappy could
smell the stench of diesel fuel emanating
from the towel.

Slappy produced Ma’s note and held it at

arm’s length. ‘Here, ya best be takin this.
It’s an invite to our next race. Are you and
yer freaks man enough to be acceptin in?’

The Nurnberger said nothing as he stared

down Slappy. In the blink of an eye, he
impaled the note with the tip of his blade,
before slowly pulling it in and reading it.
Slappy jumped back, still pointing his
shotgun at the Nurnberger’s head. His
breathing got even more ragged as bloody
spittle dripped from below his mask, down his apron. Slowly, the Nurnberger
nodded vertically to signal his acceptance of the invitation.

A moment later, Slappy hopped into the truck; Clovis already had the engine
running and looked petrified.

‘Slappy, can we get on outta here yet?’

‘Punch it, Cuz! I swear, these here slaughterhouse folk are nuttier than an outhouse
rat. Let’s head on home!’

The two looked in their rear-view mirrors as dozens of the slaughterhouse folk,
holding improvised shovel-torches, chased them down the road.

13
 Slaughterhouse 9
At one time, much of Indiana, Illinois, and Iowa were dotted with slaughterhouses and
packing plants that provided meat for not only the United States, but also the world. After
the wars, the majority of these states were rendered too radioactive to be of use, and the
nine remaining companies consolidated to form Slaughterhouse 9. The radiation exacted
a heavy toll on the remaining workers and matters quickly devolved into chaos as
maddened laborers separated into two competing camps; serial killers and murder
hoboes. The Serial Killers tend to have rhyme or reason for stalking and killing their
victims. The Murder Hoboes kill at random, and only require opportunity.

Leading the Serial Killer faction is the Nurnberger, a terrifying wretch who has never
been seen without his hockey mask. His followers tend to use machetes and flaming
shovels to attack their hapless victims when not racing. The Murder Hoboes usually wear
welder helmets or goggles and follow their leader, an utterly deranged degenerate known
as the Hacker. What the two factions have in common is that they are somewhat suicidal,
and will happily kill themselves to ensure maximum carnage during races. It is common
to see Slaughterhouse 9 teams with numerous zero-turn mowers ladened with
combustible barrels or dynamite, used as explosive rams. In these such races, most
competitors from all factions are annihilated before they reach the 1st gate.

 Perk Classes: Horror and Aggression

Teams sponsored by Slaughterhouse 9 gain the following Sponsor Perks:

 Psychotic: Both factions of Slaughterhouse 9 worship their strange deity, the Slurp,
and view suicide as a valuable strategy. Light vehicles may have one exploding ram.

 Meat Tenderizers: It is commonplace to see Slaughterhouse 9 vehicles covered in

gigantic rusty spikes, saws and blades. For 4 cans and 1 build point, a vehicle receives
+1 attack die for all collisions, on all sides.

14
 United dairy fascists
Where once, rolling hills of green grass, lush orchards and grazing cattle dominated states
like Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan, there now exists mostly barren earth with
sparse patches of needle grass and parasitic trees, fueled by an endless drizzle of acid
rain. Living off of these cursed lands is a faction of wealthy farmers known as the United
Dairy Fascists. The UDF manages herds of mutant cattle to provide the planet with meat
and glowing, blue milk. Any dairy farmers who try to break free of the UDF are quickly
hunted down and turned into mulch. The elder statesman of the UDF is Buckshot Diesel.
Over the years, he has consolidated his power and is keen to stamp out any other farmers
who try to leave his fascist cartel.

The hyper-violent agronomists of the UDF love their tractors and have become a top
contender in the GRASSLANDS races, while bullying competition with huge farm
equipment laden with vicious looking log-grabbers and the spiked buckets of their front-
loaders. The lone challenger to Buckshot's racing dominance is the insane Mr. Foolsman.
This adrenaline junky has the rare ability to successfully pilot a nitrous-injected
performance tractor that reaches speeds in excess of 120 mph. Mr. Foolsman views
tractors as a means of outrunning the competition, as opposed to running them over.
Buckshot and his rival rarely see eye to eye, but have teamed up on occasion to race
against other factions.
’s the mid 1980s and most of the large cities of the earth have been devastated by direct
nuclear strikes.

 Perk Classes: Badass and Wreckless

Teams sponsored by the UDF gain the following Sponsor Perks”

 Hay Rides: Medium and heavy vehicles may have a hay trailer for +3 cans. This has 2
build points and may hold up to 4 extra crew. The vehicle follows all rules for having
a trailer.

 Pet Gribblies: Buckshot Diesel keeps a few barns of light and middleweight Road
Invaders on hand, and will lend them out for the right price. Any UDF team may take
one Road Invader drone or soldier.

15
Buckshot Diesel had been a prominent dairy farmer before the war,
managing hundreds of acres where herds of cattle grazed on beautiful,
green grass. Now, the nuclear fallout had reduced his farm to a pale
shadow of once it once was. He spent most of his time fending off his small
herd from mutant boars and the parasitic vampire-squirrels that inhabited
the petrified trees.

He entered his house holding a large pile of clothes in bad need of

washing. His nephew, Bobby Krankshaft, was on the floor shuffling
through a milk crate of Atari 2600 cartridges. After careful consideration,
the boy decided on the ‘Space Invaders’ cartridge and seated in into the
console’s slot, before toggling the metal power switch. As the game came
to life, the ten year old turned to face his uncle.

‘Uncle Buck, where’d you get those clothes from? Are those from the last
batch of help you hired?’

‘Yep, they were good workers, but the damn squirrels got em. Dammit
Bobby, I told those boys to mind the trees, but they didn’t listen. Last
evening, I heard screaming, but it was too late. All three of them were
already being drained alive. Those varmints are blood-thirsty killers, I tell
ya. What was left of them went in the wood chipper. They should at least be
good fertilizer.

‘Why didn’t you just feed them to the gribblies, uncle?’

‘Like I said, they were already drained of blood. The gribblies prefer fresh
meat.’

‘Ya know, the gribblies kinda remind me of these.’ The boy pointed to the
rows of space invaders on the screen of the old black and white console TV
as they moved in horizontal rows, spitting missiles down at the lone
defender. ‘They got tentacles and all.’

‘Hmmm, yeah, I can see that. But they’re not from space, and they
definitely can’t fly; at least from what I’ve seen so far.’

What was referred to as “gribblies”, were in fact the unfortunate offspring

of Buckshot’s experiments. He had tried his hand at cultivating a
hydroponic vegetable garden. The soil was too radioactive to sufficiently
grow edible vegetation, so he attempted to grow micro vats of greens in a

16
complex chemical solution. At first, it appeared to be working, but when
they had reached a height over eighteen inches, they displayed predatory
behavior. First, one of the house cats disappeared, then his wife. All that
was left of her, was her clothes and shoes in a slimy pile.

Buckshot was so angry about losing his cat, he moved the writhing plant-
based monstrosities to his barn and locked them in. He was shocked to see
that they had bonded to the old broken-down vehicles that had been stored
there for decades. Somehow, they had grown considerably and achieved
oneness with the vehicles. Perhaps they were feeding on the vehicles’
rotting tires; who could say? One thing was for sure, they were hungry and
had to be fed, lest they jailbreak like the last incident where an old pick up
and hay truck burst from the barndoors and tore off down the road. Despite
having no fuel, the mutant vehicles sped off into the horizon, tentacles
waving and green clouds of exhaust billowing. It was rumored they had
found a way to reproduce, and even had a cult of followers.

Now, the only vehicles left were a car and motorcycle that had grown
maws, eyeballs, and long tentacles often ending in gigantic claws.
Buckshot had kept them like pets and fed them monthly with whatever he
could find. At the next death race, he was going to use one of them and
take the other team by surprise. He couldn’t wait to see the faces of Slappy
and his boys when they saw his gribbly ripping their tractors to shreds.
Buckshot set down the bloody clothes and was pouring himself a jar of
homemade white lightning when there was a knock in the door.

Buckshot grabbed his handy-dandy single-action .357 and made for the
door. A man in his early 20s stood there, looking exhausted.

‘Hello sir! I’m passing through and was wondering if you had some work
for me?’

‘What’s your name, son?’

‘It’s Herbie, and I have experience being a farmhand.’

‘This ain’t no normal farm, Herbie. You know how to handle yourself
around vampire squirrels? The last help I hired didn’t last too long. I need
something dug up. How are you with a shovel?

‘Yes sir! I’m damn good with a shovel and know how to steer clear of the
trees at night. Those little bastards ain’t gonna get me, no sir.’

17
 ‘OK then, we’d better get busy, it’s almost supper time.’

Buckshot and Herbie each walked out to a part of the field about an acre
from the house, shovels in hand. Buckshot was sweating profusely in the
July heat. He took off his John Deere hat and wiped his forehead with a
cloth that looked like a pair of women’s’ panties.

‘All right Herbie, this should do. We can start digging here. But what I
have to tell yo…… Wait!? Is that what I think it is? Lookey there.’ Buckshot
pointed to a spot in the ground.

Herbie bent over to see what they had discovered, scanning the ground for
something out of place. He never saw Buckshot Diesel wind up and bring
the shovel squarely down on the back of his skull. A loud ping rang out as
the young man fell unconscious to the ground.

Herbie woke up and felt that he could not move his limbs. He was securely
hog-tied and bouncing around in the metal bucket of Buckshot’s front-
loader tractor. The ride was rough and he screamed out in pain, his head
still bleeding profusely. The green tractor moved slowly over the uneven
ground as they approached one of the rusty barns.

‘HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!’ He screamed in futility. The nearest

neighbors were miles away.

The tractor came to an abrupt halt in front of the pad-locked barndoors.

Buckshot deftly dumped him from the bucket. This was most assuredly not
the first time Buckshot had carried people in tractor’s front-loader. Herbie
kept screaming as the middle-aged farmer fumbled through his keys,
before finally finding the proper key and unlocking the doors.

‘STOP! DON’T DO THIS! I have money. I’ll give you anything. You don’t
have to kill me.’

‘Ah hell Herbie, this ain’t personal. But if I don’t feed the gribblies, they get
hungry and strike out on their own. We can’t have any more of my pets
escape. For what it’s worth, it’ll be pretty quick; usually, they don’t toy with
their food.’

The bound man struggled mightily against his bindings, but to no avail.
Buckshot pushed him into the barn and began to close the barn doors. As
the doors closed, Buckshot could see tentacles that were dripping acidic
slime wrapping around the man’s limbs. He started up the tractor again and

18
revved the engine to drown out the horrible screams and slurping sounds
coming from the barn. He noticed Bobby looking from the window.

After he parked his tractor, he walked back into the house where Bobby
was once again playing his video game.

‘Uncle Buck, do you feed the gribblies so they don’t break out and make
their way on down the road, looking for food?’

‘That’s right Bobby. Can’t have any more of those … road invaders heading
out on their own.’

‘Road Invaders? That’s downright funny, Uncle Buck.’

Buckshot reclined in his duct-taped lazyboy and sipped his moonshine

while watching his nephew play video games.

19
 Mekkonites
Rural regions of Ohio and Pennsylvania went moderately unscathed during the nuclear
apocalypse that claimed so many coastal cities. Some of the more religious and tight-knit
communities were able to scavenge loads of vehicles and farm equipment, then use their
inherent building prowess to make combat-farming vehicles of high quality. These
families and communities solidified themselves as a new sect, the Mekkonites. When not
milking cows or building furniture, they can be found trying out their latest contraptions
in the racing fields.

The most famous of these clans are the Van Kleavins, led by Der Klutchman. Early on,
he gained political power during the Night of 1,000 Pitchforks, where he and his kin
eliminated most of his Mekkonite rivals, not counting his hated cousin, Hezecaiah Van
Kleavin. Der Klutchman was such a feared assassin, that many other patriarchs soon
bowed before him, lest they risk the ire of his famed pitchfork, Chicken Foot. It is
suicidal folly to wander into Mekkonite lands during the night, as the shadows conceal
deadly assassins in overalls and straw hats.

Mekkonites covet heavy tractors with many bizarre but effective customizations. They
also seem to favor heavily armed UTVs, which balance speed and firepower.
There are rumors that certain members of the Mekkonites are building secret vehicles for
a new type of racing that is proliferating in the deep south.

 Perk Classes: Built and Tuning

Teams sponsored by the Mekkonites gain the following Sponsor Perks:

 Superior Craftsmen: With a well respected heritage of being outstanding craftsmen,

Mekkonites make excellent mechanics. Vehicles with 2 or more crew can repair 1 HP
per turn on a roll of 4+.

 Pitchforks: Der Klutchman made pitchforks the melee weapon of choice for the
Mekkonites, and now all combatants carry them. Hitting chickens does not cause a
hazard.

20
Buckshot Diesel had been a prominent dairy farmer before the war,
managing hundreds of acres where herds of cattle grazed on beautiful,
green grass. Now, the nuclear fallout had reduced his farm to a pale
shadow of once it once was. He spent most of his time fending off his small
herd from mutant boars and the parasitic vampire-squirrels that inhabited
the petrified trees.

He entered his house holding a large pile of clothes in bad need of

washing. His nephew, Bobby Krankshaft, was on the floor shuffling
through a milk crate of Atari 2600 cartridges. After careful consideration,
the boy decided on the ‘Space Invaders’ cartridge and seated in into the
console’s slot, before toggling the metal power switch. As the game came
to life, the ten year old turned to face his uncle.

‘Uncle Buck, where’d you get those clothes from? Are those from the last
batch of help you hired?’

‘Yep, they were good workers, but the damn squirrels got em. Dammit
Bobby, I told those boys to mind the trees, but they didn’t listen. Last
evening, I heard screaming, but it was too late. All three of them were
already being drained alive. Those varmints are blood-thirsty killers, I tell
ya. What was left of them went in the wood chipper. They should at least be
good fertilizer.

‘Why didn’t you just feed them to the gribblies, uncle?’

‘Like I said, they were already drained of blood. The gribblies prefer fresh
meat.’

‘Ya know, the gribblies kinda remind me of these.’ The boy pointed to the
rows of space invaders on the screen of the old black and white console TV
as they moved in horizontal rows, spitting missiles down at the lone
defender. ‘They got tentacles and all.’

‘Hmmm, yeah, I can see that. But they’re not from space, and they
definitely can’t fly; at least from what I’ve seen so far.’

What was referred to as “gribblies”, were in fact the unfortunate offspring

of Buckshot’s experiments. He had tried his hand at cultivating a
hydroponic vegetable garden. The soil was too radioactive to sufficiently
grow edible vegetation, so he attempted to grow micro vats of greens in a
complex chemical solution. At first, it appeared to be working, but when
they had reached a height over eighteen inches, they displayed predatory
21
behavior. First, one of the house cats disappeared, then his wife. All that
was left of her, was her clothes and shoes in a slimy pile.

Buckshot was so angry about losing his cat, he moved the writhing plant-
based monstrosities to his barn and locked them in. He was shocked to see
that they had bonded to the old broken-down vehicles that had been stored
there for decades. Somehow, they had grown considerably and achieved
oneness with the vehicles. Perhaps they were feeding on the vehicles’
rotting tires; who could say? One thing was for sure, they were hungry and
had to be fed, lest they jailbreak like the last incident where an old pick up
and hay truck burst from the barndoors and tore off down the road. Despite
having no fuel, the mutant vehicles sped off into the horizon, tentacles
waving and green clouds of exhaust billowing. It was rumored they had
found a way to reproduce, and even had a cult of followers.

Now, the only vehicles left were a car and motorcycle that had grown
maws, eyeballs, and long tentacles often ending in gigantic claws.
Buckshot had kept them like pets and fed them monthly with whatever he
could find. At the next death race, he was going to use one of them and
take the other team by surprise. He couldn’t wait to see the faces of Slappy
and his boys when they saw his gribbly ripping their tractors to shreds.
Buckshot set down the bloody clothes and was pouring himself a jar of
homemade white lightning when there was a knock in the door.

Buckshot grabbed his handy-dandy single-action .357 and made for the
door. A man in his early 20s stood there, looking exhausted.

‘Hello sir! I’m passing through and was wondering if you had some work
for me?’

‘What’s your name, son?’

‘It’s Herbie, and I have experience being a farmhand.’

‘This ain’t no normal farm, Herbie. You know how to handle yourself
around vampire squirrels? The last help I hired didn’t last too long. I need
something dug up. How are you with a shovel?

‘Yes sir! I’m damn good with a shovel and know how to steer clear of the
trees at night. Those little bastards ain’t gonna get me, no sir.’

‘OK then, we’d better get busy, it’s almost supper time.’

22
Buckshot and Herbie each walked out to a part of the field about an acre
from the house, shovels in hand. Buckshot was sweating profusely in the
July heat. He took off his John Deere hat and wiped his forehead with a
cloth that looked like a pair of women’s’ panties.

‘All right Herbie, this should do. We can start digging here. But what I
have to tell yo…… Wait!? Is that what I think it is? Lookey there.’ Buckshot
pointed to a spot in the ground.

Herbie bent over to see what they had discovered, scanning the ground for
something out of place. He never saw Buckshot Diesel wind up and bring
the shovel squarely down on the back of his skull. A loud ping rang out as
the young man fell unconscious to the ground.

Herbie woke up and felt that he could not move his limbs. He was securely
hog-tied and bouncing around in the metal bucket of Buckshot’s front-
loader tractor. The ride was rough and he screamed out in pain, his head
still bleeding profusely. The green tractor moved slowly over the uneven
ground as they approached one of the rusty barns.

‘HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!’ He screamed in futility. The

nearest neighbors were miles away.

The tractor came to an abrupt halt in front of the pad-locked barndoors.

Buckshot deftly dumped him from the bucket. This was most assuredly not
the first time Buckshot had carried people in tractor’s front-loader. Herbie
kept screaming as the middle-aged farmer fumbled through his keys,
before finally finding the proper key and unlocking the doors.

‘STOP! DON’T DO THIS! I have money. I’ll give you anything. You don’t
have to kill me.’

‘Ah hell Herbie, this ain’t personal. But if I don’t feed the gribblies, they get
hungry and strike out on their own. We can’t have any more of my pets
escape. For what it’s worth, it’ll be pretty quick; usually, they don’t toy with
their food.’

The bound man struggled mightily against his bindings, but to no avail.
Buckshot pushed him into the barn and began to close the barn doors. As
the doors closed, Buckshot could see tentacles that were dripping acidic
slime, wrapping around the man’s limbs. He started up the tractor again

23
and revved the engine to drown out the horrible screams and slurping
sounds coming from the barn. He noticed Bobby looking from the window.

After he parked his tractor, he walked back into the house where Bobby
was once again playing his video game.

‘Uncle Buck, do you feed the gribblies so they don’t break out and make
their way on down the road, looking for food?’

‘That’s right Bobby. Can’t have any more of those … road invaders heading
out on their own.’

‘Road Invaders? That’s downright funny, Uncle Buck.’

Buckshot reclined in his duct-taped recliner and sipped moonshine while

watching his nephew play video games.

24
 Road invaders
Some innocent horticulture experiments by Buckshot Diesel have given birth to a
dangerous new sect of plant-machine hybrids, the Road Invaders. Mekkonite spies have
provided grim intel concerning the rapid spread of this new threat. Apparently, heavy
vehicles are being infected by floating spores blowing on the radio-active winds. These
bio-mechanical freaks are growing into large leviathans known as ‘Queens’. In turn, these
queens somehow spawn several new spores that infect lesser vehicles, which then serve
their master. The hierarchy is very similar to insects, where the lesser worker drones and
soldiers serve their queen and are apparently controlled by pheromones and/or psychic
energy.

What started out as a minor annoyance to the factions of the GRASSLANDS and
GASLANDS, has quickly become a major concern. The proliferation of new Road
Invader cults is spreading like a plague. The torrential acid rain of the region is feeding
these constructs, and they are multiplying like weeds.

 Perk Classes and allowable upgrades: none

Road Invader teams have the following special abilities:

 Hivemind: Most Road Invader teams are led by its queen. The queen can lend psychic
support to her minions. Once per turn, any allied drone or soldier within double range
of the queen, may transfer one of their hazard tokens to her.

 It Must Feed…: Road Invaders are constantly looking to feed on any biomass. When
a Road Invader hits a livestock obstacle (chickens, pigs, cows, etc.), it gains 1 HP up
to its maximum.

25
The sun was blistering and the sound of desperate screams could be heard
on the wind. A lone tractor moseyed along the rocky ground covered by
acidic needle-grass. The cows had mutated nicely over the last few years
and had somehow found a way to eat and digest the stinking vegetation.
Some of the bulls had up to nine horns and were very aggressive; the
gigantic beasts could tear apart an unarmored tractor in seconds flat. The
carnivorous bile trees waited patiently for birds to land on their inviting
limbs, before tiny poisonous barbs rendered the hapless birds comatose;
at which time the trees could slowly dissolve them for nourishment.

Buckshot Diesel was heading for his barn known as ‘the Mulcher’, which
contained his wood-chipper. The bucket of his front-loader was loaded with
four bodies. Limp limbs protruding over the bucket merrily bounced about
as he drove over the rough ground at an impressive speed. His super-
charged war-tractor had a new nitrous injector and exhaust system that
was sure to be the envy of his competition at the next race. Suddenly, he
sensed movement to his side. Buckshot instinctively reached for his .357
magnum and a cocktail bomb.

No sooner had he lit the oily rag of the Molotov cocktail, when a vicious
swipe of a pitchfork nearly decapitated him.

‘Van Kleavin! What

the hell do you
want? I’m busy!’
Buckshot yelled as
he threw the bomb
at Der Klutchman’s
feet. It exploded in a
shower of fiery
napalm, but the
Mekkonite assassin
was deceptively fast,
and deftly dodged it.

‘What do I be
wanting? I want your
head on a stick,
dontcha know,’ Der
Klutchman said in
his Pennsylvania Dutch accent. ‘You damn English need to be eradicated!’

26
 ‘You can’t have my head, but I’ll give you some of this here hot lead,’
Buckshot exclaimed as he opened fire with his revolver.

Der Klutchman batted the pistol out of Buckshot’s hand and was about to
dive in for another swipe when he suddenly recoiled and stared to the east.
Buckshot had just lit another cocktail bomb and was primed to throw it as
he looked in the same direction. Someone was making their way through
the thick wall of strangleweed that ran along the eastern part of the UDF
farm. Normally, the strangleweed would have made short work of anyone
who dared enter it, but it seemed to actually be parting for the corpse-like
banshee.

The woman had once been known as

Krystal Metherton, a Bowltown laborer
in the mountains of McFadden territory
who had ran off to join one of the
mysterious Road Invader cults. She
was clad in an assortment of dirty rags
with a hat covered in motley souvenirs,
representing each one of her recent
victims. On her arms were strange
vines that seemed to be growing out of
her veins. She was now a cultist of the
thrice-damned Road Invaders. The
cults had been growing for the last few
years and had become a serious threat
to all the major powers of the
GRASSLANDS.

She shambled slowly toward the

dueling patriarchs, looking like a
zombie from a campy horror flick.

‘Stop right there woman! What business do you have here?’ Der
Klutchman yelled.

‘Greetings, unenlightened. I am Chief Acolyte Emmerelda, and I represent

her royal highness, Queen Kenworth.’ The woman’s voice was both hoarse
and strangely musical. ‘I have heard your clans will be meeting for a race
two days from now at the venue known as Meaner Pastures. The exalted
Queen Kenworth and her blessed minions wish to participate in the race,
for the greater glory of our kin.’

27
Now Buckshot spoke up, ‘And why exactly would we invite your freaks to
our race. What’s in it for us?’

The pallid lady reached into her pockets and threw a few handfuls of shiny
sparkplugs at the two men. Both gasped in amazement as they picked up
the sparkplugs and clutched them greedily. She spoke again, ‘We shall give
you each a dozen more at the race. Do you accept my Queen’s generous
offer?’

‘Ya got yourself a deal, you damned psycho. We’ll see you at the race!’
Buckshot happily replied.

‘And then we’ll be seeing you in hell, dontcha know!’ Der Klutchman
added.

With that, the deranged woman shuffled backward into the dense
strangleweed, as the deadly vines slowly and lovingly enveloped her. The
two men gave each other a begrudging nod of respect as Buckshot sped
off toward his barn and Der Klutchman returned to his hidden UTV.

28
New goodies
Livestock
New destructible obstacles are available and recommended for GRASSLANDS. Here are
the kinds of livestock that are sure to cause ‘udder mayhem’ during your race:

- Chickens: Hitting a chicken causes one hazard, but does no damage.

- Small Sized Livestock (lightweight destructible obstacle): pigs, goats, dogs,

alpacas, sheep

- Medium Sized Livestock (middleweight destructible obstacle): cows, horses, deer,

moose

Determine how many of each type of livestock are to be used. Divide them up equally
amongst the players and then place them intermittently throughout the course. None may
be placed before gate 1.

Front-Loader
Tractors and other large farm equipment often have a front-loader for moving earth or
other heavy objects like logs, corpses, wreckage, etc. Of course, these are also very useful
in combat. These are usually buckets for digging, or log-grabber claws. In essence, they
function exactly like a ram, but with a few differences:

- Cost: 5 cans

- Build points required: 2

- Front-loaders may only be front or rear mounted.

- When a vehicle successfully rams a vehicle, roll a d6 and consult the LIFT table:

LIFT: - On a 4+, the targeted lightweight vehicle wipes out.

- On a 5+, the targeted middleweight vehicle wipes out.
- On a 6, the targeted heavyweight vehicle wipes out.

29
 vehicles
GRASSLANDS courses are hastily improvised areas that always feature treacherous
terrain consisting of uneven fields or rock, vegetation, mud, dips, jumps, livestock
carcasses, scrap vehicle parts, sheds, and worse. Smooth pavement is something most
rural folk have never seen. Accordingly, all-terrain vehicles are the only things suited to
such dangerous conditions.

Every able vehicle is re-purposed, armed, armored, then fielded for combat racing.
Lightweight vehicles such as zero turn mowers, dirtbikes, four-wheelers, and UTVs
(Utility Terrain Vehicles) will often have enough speed to provide death-defying jumps
and attempt to outrun the competition.

Tractors are the most popular type of vehicle in the GRASSLANDS, and customizations
are as diverse as the glowing sludge-rats that inhabit dilapidated barns. Whereas most
participants use slow and sturdy farm tractors, some prefer to outfit them for flat out
speed. Nitrous-injected performance tractors that had once been used for drag racing and
tractor pulls, now light up the dreary sky with huge jets of flame and exhaust gushing
from their hood-mounted exhaust pipes. Although they rarely finish the race, the
spectators delight in their fiery wrecks.

The true monsters of the

midway are the heavy
tractors. Although these
gargantuans will rarely
outrun anything, they are
happy to simply run over
opponents with their huge
tires or treads. The sight of
a smaller vehicle being
crushed by a heavy tractor
going up and over it, whips
the fans into an animalistic
frenzy. Old utility and hay trucks have also been re-fitted for the GRASSLANDS racing
circuit. On occasion, even rebuilt school buses have been seen trying to negotiate the
dangerous courses. .

30
 Dirtbikes
There are those who will gladly sacrifice safety and survivability for the thrill of sheer
speed. With knobby off-road tires, dirtbikes are the kings of speed and mobility on the
GRASSLANDS. While only designed for one rider, some brave/foolish teams will throw
a second rider on the back for extra firepower.

The nimble dirtbike is a staple of the McFadden clan and handles ramps especially well
with its light weight and agile shocks.

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Pivot, Full Throttle

Sticky McFadden’s beloved bike, ‘Mudsucker’.

31
 Four-wheelers
Sometimes called ‘ATVs’, four-wheelers are gaining massive popularity as of late. While
not quite as fast as their two-wheeled cousins, they are slightly sturdier and still maintain
above average speed.

With the ability to pivot when coming from a standstill, the four-wheeler is great for
reckless drivers who don’t mind wiping out in top gear, only to pivot to an advantageous
position when staring back up in 1st gear.

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Pivot

Earl Balljoint negotiating Meaner Pastures on his ATV.

32
 UTVs
Utility Terrain Vehicles are highly customizable and fulfill a diverse role on the fields.
With a combination of speed, firepower, and decent defense, it’s no wonder most team
like to field these vehicles. The roll cages come in handy when wiping out on the
treacherous GRASSLANDS.

The Mekkonites and their knack for actively repairing vehicles under fire especially have
a love for UTVs, and use them to good effect.

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Roll cage

Two Mekkonites chase their quarry around the Butterchurn.

33
 Zero Turn Mowers
While being the slowest vehicle on the GRASSLANDS, these killing machines have
found their niche as valuable tools to shrewd team owners. What these mowers lack in
speed, they more than make up for with great maneuverability.

Slaughterhouse 9 seems to be hopelessly enamored with zero turn mowers loaded with
devastating weaponry or explosives. Races are often won before the 1st gate when
suicidal drivers use their mowers as heat-seeking bombs.

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Pivot

A Slaughterhouse 9 zero turn mower, complete with machine gun.

34
 Tractors
If there is one vehicle that epitomizes the GRASSLANDS, it is the reliable tractor. Every
faction uses tractors, but none as fervently as the United Dairy Fascists. With ample room
for a front-loader and a weapon, tractors are the backbone of any racing team

Across the GRASSLANDS, tractors come in all shapes, sizes, and color. Thousands of
fatalities have been racked up by tractors turning over the competition with front-loaders.

 Special Rules: All Terrain

A Murder Hobo customizing his tractor.

35
 Performance Tractors
Tractor pulls and drag racing were commonplace in the late 20th century and many of the
performance tractors are still in use. Insanely fast and mostly uncontrollable, are the two
most descriptive phrases for these road rockets.

The deafening roar of an alcohol-burning, nitrous-injected, 600 cubic inch engine often
precedes a horrifying crash with numerous fatalities. These flaming coffins rarely finish a
race, but the spectacle they create is well worth the risk.

 Special Rules: Roll Cage, Full Throttle

Mr. Foolsman passes the 1st gate in his infamous ‘Hood Mobile’, as the crowd cheers him on.

36
 Heavy Tractor
Sometimes there is just no substitute for raw power. Heavy tractors represent a vastly
diverse array of massive farm equipment that has been made combat-ready and
customized with everything from front-loaders to rocket launchers.

Despite being gargantuan, heavy tractors are surprisingly steerable and often crush
smaller vehicles under their oversized tires or treads. These behemoths prove the old
adage, “Might makes right”.

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Up and Over

Eric the Red faces off with the Green Meanie.

37
 School bus
Even before the nuclear holocaust, old school buses were ubiquitous in the mountains and
hills of certain states, laying in different stages of disrepair in yards. Many of these were
used as makeshift hunting cabins in better days. The remaining buses that have not been
scrapped for parts are now being pimped out for the GRASSLANDS circuit.

Most buses are upgraded with all-terrain tires or treads to help navigate the treacherous
GRASSLANDS venues. Big Bad Benny McFadden and his ‘Murder Twinkie’ are known
and feared throughout the lands. One of his main rivals is Fireball Frankie McFadden,
whose bus seems to catch on fire every race.

 Special Rules: none

Fireball Frankie McFadden running for his life.

38
 Heavy truck
Trucks are an integral part of farming and are used for hauling hay, livestock, parts, and
more. While not ideally suited to the treacherous terrain of GRASSLANDS racing, these
versatile trucks will often be given all-terrain tires or treads to give them better
survivability.

Hezecaiah Van Kleavin in his armored heavy truck, ‘the Armada Horse’, is perhaps the
most successful truck driver in the GRASSLANDS. To date, Hezecaiah has won 14 races
and killed over 67 participants, some of which belong to his own clan.

 Special Rules: none

Hezecaiah Van Kleavin in his armored truck, the ‘Armada Horse’.

39
 Shuck-a-saurus
Shuck-a-Saurus is the vile creation born from a dangerous new cult of corn farmers in
Nebraska known as the Reaper Grim and Seraphim. It has “taken worldly form” as an
exceptionally large combine along with its attached corn trailer

These LSD-crazed farmers fervently worship the mechanical monstrosity as a beloved

deity, and hold an annual event where multiple different factions are invited to fight it in
a barren field known as the Cornhole.

Shuck-a-Saurus stands over 30 feet tall, with a fire breathing log-claw for a mouth. To
“awaken” the beast prior to a race, hallucinating farmers happily sacrifice themselves by
drinking jugs of high octane, corn-based, grain alcohol; all the while shouting litanies of
worship and praise.

Vehicle Type: Heavy Tractor

Cost: 50 Cans

Weapons & Upgrades: Flamethrower (front-facing), Front-Loader (front-facing), Trailer,

Armor Plating

 Special Rules: All Terrain, Up and Over, Lift, All Articulated Trailer Rules
(Piledriver, Jack-knife Ponderous, etc.)

Only smoldering wreckage remains after an encounter at the Cornhole.

40
 VEHICLE CHARTS
Max Build
Vehicle Weight Hull Handling Crew Special rules Cost
Gear Slots
Zero Turn
Light 4 6 1 1 1 All Terrain, Pivot 4
Mower

Dirtbike Light 3 5 4 1 1 All Terrain, Pivot 5

ATV Light 4 4 3 1 1 All Terrain, Pivot 5

RUV Light 6 4 3 2 2 All Terrain, Roll Cage 6

Tractor Middle 10 3 2 1 3 All Terrain 10

Performance
Middle 14 1 6 1 2 Roll Cage, Full Throttle 12
Tractor
All Terrain, Up and
Heavy Tractor Heavy 16 3 2 1 4 25
Over

Heavy Truck Heavy 14 2 3 4 4 25

Bus Heavy 16 2 3 8 3 30

Max
Mutant Weight Hull Handling Special Rules Cost
Gear
Acid Spitter: 1 attack (1d6) at medium range (front facing)
Drone Light 7 4 5 Tentacles: 2 attacks (1d6 each) at short range (360) 10

Acid Spitter: 1 attack (2d6) at medium range (front facing)

Soldier Medium 12 3 4 Tentacles: 4 attacks (1d6 each) at short range (360) 20

Acid Spitter: 1 attack (3d6) at medium range (front facing)

Queen Heavy 17 2 3 Tentacles: 6 attacks (1d6 each) at short range (360) 30

41
 toilet bowl
This Bowltown track features a dizzying array of ramps and lightweight livestock.
- 1d6 ramps, 1 d6 lightweight animals, treacherous terrain

Another life is claimed in a fiery wreck at the Toilet Bowl.

42
 Butter churn
A figure-eight track in Mekkonite lands has a mixture of chickens and other livestock.
- 2d6 chickens, 1d6 lightweight animals, treacherous terrain

Wiping out and flipping at the Butter Churn is a common occurrence.

43
 hellhole
The nightmare-inducing Slaughterhouse 9 course includes tons of doomed livestock.
- 1d6 chickens, 1d6 lightweight animals. 1d6 middleweight animals, treacherous terrain

Few who enter the Hellhole live to tell about it.

44
 meaner pastures
Much like other courses in UDF territory, Meaner Pastures features mostly cows.
- 2d6 middleweight animals, treacherous terrain

Crazed scavengers descend on a fresh wreck as the trapped driver is cooked alive

45
 Modeling
One of the joys of GASLANDS & GRASSLANDS is doing modeling and painting.
Some gamers love re-purposing their old Hot Wheels and Matchbox vehicles, while some
enjoy the hunt for purchasing neat looking vehicles that would be good hosts for
customization. GRASSLANDS modelers can usually be broken down into three
categories:

Scavengers: Whether they are frugal or just enjoy the challenge, Scavengers only use
items and parts which are on hand. Raid the garage/basement/junk drawers for anything
that can be used. Tear apart old circuit boards for capacitors, wiring and other useable
“parts”. Most of their finished models will be from vehicles that were already on hand, or
bought cheaply.

Warriors: This class represents the majority of GASLANDS/GRASSLANDS players.

Warriors will not only use vehicles and parts they have on hand, but will buy items here
and there to make nice looking models.

Tuners: Only the best will do! Tuners buy or 3-D print whatever vehicles and parts
needed to make the coolest model. What is money compared to looking good at the race,
and the accolades that come with it?

Another great aspect of Gaslands/Grasslands is that almost all models are already
painted. For those of you who would rather not paint your models, you have two options:
leave the COTS (commercial off the shelf) paint job as is, or “dirty up” the existing paint
job with dark washes and/or dry-brushing. The end result of a model with its COTS paint
job and numerous washes and/or dry-brushing jobs can be quite spectacular and realistic-
looking.

On the flip side, there is simply no substitute for a finely primed and re-painted model.
Although this is significantly more time consuming, it gives the modeler more leeway to
use their favorite colors, or to paint on flair like numbers and words. The following pages
show two examples of modified COTS paint jobs followed by some fantastic, fully-
painted miniatures, as well as some modeling and painting inspiration.

This section features instruction and commentary directly from the modelers.

46
 the slaughter tractor

The first step to any build is finding a vehicle you want to use as a base. Most models for Gaslands are
in a 1:64 scale. Here, I'm going to use a humble farm tractor found in a bag of cars at a thrift store.

If you want to access the interior of the car or change the wheels, you'll usually need to drill the rivets
underneath. I recommend using a small drill head first, and switching to a larger one to finish the job.

47
Once the interior is accessible, you can modify it as you wish, and optionally add a driver if you have a
figurine of the right size. I kept the original wheels, but this is the best time to change them.

Now it's time to get creative! You can either use custom 3-D printed pieces, leftover bits from other
toys, or pretty much any everyday object you wish to craft your vehicle. I like to arrange the bits that
inspire me on my work surface and see how they fit with each other and with my model.

48
This tractor is going to be sponsored by Slaughterhouse 9 and needs to look scary. I used super glue to
add pieces to bulk it up. I had the chance of having this armor-plate bit that was the perfect size.

Every day objects can be turned into weapons, armor, and gadgets with a little bit of work. This bread
bag clip became a pair of hooked blades with minimal work.

49
Creating a model is sometimes more about the aesthetic than the gear. This tractor is going to be covered
in spikes, hooks, chains and gore. Jewelry chains and toothpicks serve this purpose very well.

Corrugated paper makes for great metal plating and knitting plastic grids are often used as metal bars.
You could also use plasticard, cardboard, toothpicks or metal wires to reinforce your vehicle.
50
I used zombies from an old board game (Another thrift store treasure) to create a body pile on top of the
tractor.

Once I was finished crafting the model, I primed it using plastic and metal primer. This will allow you to
paint your piece of art with more ease. Just remember to prime in a well ventilated area.
51
At this point, you can choose your colors and begin to apply you base layers. Acrylic paints give very
good results and dry quickly. You can usually find cheap paint at the dollar store. Applying multiple,
thinned layers will give you smoother results.

Don't worry about the details yet. Begin with the lowest layers before painting the raised details. Unless
you are godly with a brush, you'll need to re-apply your colors a few times to correct mistakes. For the
moment, just figure out which pieces should be what color.

52
Once you are satisfied with you colors, you can start adding in small details. You don't necessarily need
a small brush to do this; a larger brush with a fine point works just as well.

You can use weathering techniques to give your model a more realistic look. First, dip an old brush in
metallic paint, then dab it on a paper towel until very little paint is left and brush over any part you want
to be damaged; this is called “dry brushing.” You can also apply rust effects by using the same
technique with a piece of foam instead. Simply sponge on a bit of brown followed by a touch of orange.

53
The final touch on the Slaughter Tractor was to paint the corpse pile and use a little gloss varnish to
make the blood look wet. With this, my vehicle is finished and I'm lovin' it!™

Slaughter Tractor – side view

54
Slaughter Tractor – rear 3/4 view

Slaughter Tractor – front 3/4 view

55
 Golum
For my build I started with a Maisto 'tractor shovel', which I lucked into and is almost perfect for what I
had in mind. The skid-loader was a wrench into the works, however, and I had to consider what whether
or not to get rid of it. Complicating matters was the fact the skid-loader was on the rear, making it a non-
optimal weapon. Ultimately I decided to stick with it.

When I build a Gaslands vehicle, I start with what kind of person is driving it. I've had it in my head to
build a set based on Gotham from the 90's Batman movies, and there's a gang of hooligans in the movies
called the Golums. You might remember them (if you're old), they're the ones wearing fluorescent paint.
I decided that this tractor would be my first Golum ride. That means my new car belongs to a street gang
that likes glowing colors and skulls; an excellent starting point. The gang in the movies is never shown
to have guns, just knives and chains and clubs. I'm going to infer that they're a small time ring, and that
they can’t afford the big toys.

Now comes the fun part; modifying that rig! The first and biggest mod, is the front ram. I started with
some 3-D printed parts that ended up getting very modified. To start with, the print had failed, making
them much shorter than they were supposed to be. Aaaand I was a really bad person and didn’t take
pictures before I glued it on.

Looking back, it probably would have been better to reprint at least one of them for a meaner looking
ram, but I like how it came out anyway. First, I played with the two pieces, trying to figure out how to
get them to fit together, and decided that I had to cut away a block from the heel of either ram so that
they'd fit together like Lincoln logs. (I swear I'm not 60.)

This looked pretty good, but what looked even better was to give the teeth a bit of tilt so they'd spread
apart further. To do that, I had to trim more of the corners.

Confident in my design, I begin fitting it to the tractor. The ram is a bit too wide, and the front of the
tractor curves. Undeterred, I decided to gently break the ram so it would curve with the front, and make
the overhang look more deliberate. This fit surprisingly well to the front of the tractor and was glued
into place. Next I had to fit the second ram to it. I decided instead of making this one curve, I was going
to cut out the center post and glue it on flat. This way, I could move the two halves closer together and
fit them between the tines of the curved ram.

Lookin mean! There's a lot of directions you could go from here, but I chose to start with paint. Getting
this puppy down to a reasonable color would help coax the rest of the build out of her. That yellow as
just telling me “no”. Normally I'd paint a base coat of some kind of gunmetal. I like it a lot better than
black for showing through, for obvious reasons. But since the color scheme of the Golums features a lot
of black, that'd be a waste of paint.

Already I'm excited by what I see. My first rule of design is ‘Never Black’, so it's not going to stay this
way, but it's a good first step. I need to do something about those tires though. They're huge and at risk
of getting shot out! Once again, I turn to my printer. I could probably have made these out of putty or
toothpicks or what have you, but I've got the tools at my disposal so why not? Some quick
measurements and I had these wheel hubs printing

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A lot of this build will come down to paint, so that's what I worked on next. The Golums feature black
with fluorescent yellow and red. This called for proper paints, and meant a trip to the craft store. The
Golums' designs are basically graffiti, angular shapes that don’t actually look like anything in particular,
except the skulls. I started with the yellow and outlined all the shapes (and drew a few solids, like some
skulls and a sword) then I took the red and filled them in, then outlined the solids. Just like the movie! (I
know, I'm a dork.)

Already, it's looking LOADS better. And I could stop here and have a decent ride. But I like going the
extra step or two. The best way to do that is with a few contrasting colors. I like to start with metal. First,
some silver/gunmetal. That's the color that's gonna be under all that paint so it's a good place to start. It
also works wonders for things like hydraulic shafts, and what do you know I have two of them. Then I
go over and touch it up with some gold for metal that should be burnt, and a mix of brown red and
orange for rust. Rust can be done a bunch of different ways, but I just mix it up and add a lot of water to
make it runny and thin. Dab it where the source of the rust is. Let it run. Then go back with a clean, wet
brush, and pick at the puddle until it thins up and looks right. Rust is subtle. You don’t have to do the
whole machine in it. Pick some rusty spots and layer it on. For the tines on the front, I put some gold on
the bottom first, then various browns, working down to the darkest in a sort of fade.

About here, my camera started having issues focusing on this tiny thing so I had to swap to my phone
which has manual focus.

One detail that I really enjoy are headlights. I like them to glow. First I put on some orange and let that
dry, then layer on some yellow till it covers almost all of the orange, rimming the light. The phone
pictures really don’t do it justice.

There's really only one detail left to this build. Those wheels. Constantly in contact with the ground and
the mud, I’m going to paint these rusty, which, I feel, will add another element of contrast to this rig. I
didn’t think painting them solid brown would be good so I started with silver, and then made some
really watery rust and dabbed it on, then added more water to force it to run. Once they were dry, they
went on the car, and it was done!

I wanted to make them pop just like the designs in the movies, and it worked! She's ready for
GRASSLANDS!

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Examples: 3-D printed part

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 rabies

The base vehicle for this conversion is an Ertl Case International Harvester tractor. The identifying
number on the bottom is 0277D.

After removing the wheels, I cleaned the tractor using a toothbrush and alcohol. Usually, I drill out the
rivets and completely take the vehicle apart to soak it in paint remover. I couldn’t in this case because
the tractor is held together with a combination of rivets and plastic compression pieces, doing so would
have destroyed part of the vehicle.

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For the majority of this conversion, I'll be using yard signage and lollipop sticks (both can come in
varying thicknesses and sizes).

The first thing I added was a little driver. I got him from some long forgotten tank kit. It may very well
get covered up when finalized but I added him anyway. Blame it on OCD

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Using an X-acto knife, a ruler, and Super Glue (CA), I then apply surface details to the tractor. I tend to
build these up in layers with the intent of roughing them up later. I also primed the interior by brush.

I then painted the interior a pale green and added more layers using the yard sign. I also added weapons
that I had purchased from Etsy. In this case, a pair of giant gun barrels on the front and a totally sweet
flammable gas spreader.

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Using storm window mesh, I made coverings for the windows. To make the pipes, I used various
lollipop sticks (some are solid, others are tubes). To bend them, I lightly applied heat using a lighter (be
careful here, they're flammable). I then applied a few more layers of cut sign for armor. It's looking
pretty rough at this stage, so I used the edge of an X-acto knife and shaved down the edges of the armor.

Using a compass cutter, I made the wheel armor. For the spikes, I sharpened some plastic rod with a lead
pointer.

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I finished this stage by brushing on a couple of coats of rust colored primer; now onto the painting stage.

The first step of painting, is laying down the base colors using thin layers of acrylic paint. I custom
mixed most of the colors.

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Now to the weathering! I made a wash by mixing black acrylic paint with a few drops of dish washing
liquid (or acrylic medium/flow improver if you have it) and a lot of water. I like to mix it until it's the
consistency of milk, then I just slather it on. Hopefully, the paint rests in the nooks and crannies
simulating shadows. In this case, I think I may have overdone it with the black wash. Oops!

I finish the weathering stage by adding a dirt wash to the tractor. I make this wash the same way I did
with previous step, but in this instance I am using a light brown acrylic. After letting the vehicle dry for
at least 24 hours, I apply varnish. I usually put down two or three coats of the satin varnish over the
whole model and then later pick out the tires and other bits for the matte coat.

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Rabies – passenger side view

Rabies – driver side view

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Rabies – front view

Ready for the race!

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Blue murder

Original model

Adding weapons and equipment

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 Primed

Opening coats

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 Adding detail

Adding detail – opposite side

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Finished – diver side 3/4 view

Finished – front 3/4 view

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Finished – rear 3/4 view

Finished – diver side view

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 V-8 HATE
When you start your project, it is very important to choose the right vehicle; And right means anything
that you make looks mean. Here, beside little cars and scrap parts, I'm using styrene sheet (aka
plasticard), styrene tube and kneadatite (two part epoxy putty often called Green Stuff).

Here in my garage I have Hot Wheels® Cruise Bruiser Gasser. Nice model, but there's just one thing I
need now.

After taking it apart, I removed the chrome from plastic parts. On the left, another donor car, the Z-Rod,
also by Hot Wheels®

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Here, I have hacked them apart and am doing some mock up for the finished model. The
green part is from some cheap toy, and looks similar to the lawn grill/front; just what I need.

This vehicle definitely needs a driver/rider, so I'm making one in style of Dr Frankenstein. 1/72 scale
figures by Revell®

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After fitting some plasticard around the engine, I realized I can't make my temporarily headless driver
fit. Oops!

I needed small and ugly wheels for front wheels. The axle was too short, so I cut it from the middle and
cut a new axle tube from styrene tube. The axle is glued in the tube.

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I beefed up the chassis with styrene tubes and glued the axle tube where it should be, then moved the
bucket seat somewhat farther back. I made some cuts to the rider’s joints so I could slightly repose him.
I filled the gaps with epoxy putty.

I decided to make some structure for a more interesting model. I used plastic sprues from certain board
games, epoxy putty and thin plasticard. The hair on was glued by mistake.

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This thing needs a steering wheel and I couldn't find another donor. So I made it myself.

The rear axle was made like the front axle. Soft plastic miniatures are a nightmare to convert by the way;
glue does nothing. NOTHING! Neither plastic nor superglue worked and I was forced to use epoxy.

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Finally, I added some minor details, such as the steering wheel, some extra pipe for rear axle, gear stick,
and a plug that makes radiator look more like a radiator, and the rider's head with converted baseball
cap. Brodie helmets are so 1944. Ready for painting!

Last but not least, the finished product from a side and side 3/4 view.

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 mother-shucker

Cheap toy tractor with bad detail; but it was cheap and the trailer definitely is a keeper. Thanks to all
plastic construction, converting is fast and easy.

Tracked vehicles are cool. A Matchbox® Trail Tipper selflessly sacrificed its lower body for this
abomination.

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I cut away unnecessary parts and used epoxy putty to fill the void. It was actually a pretty easy fit.

The model interior is bad, so I cut some styrene sheet to cover the window panels.

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I used some more styrene sheet and rod to make armored window with hinges, then I made three more.

More plasticard was used to hide the ugly putty. The exhaust is made out of styrene tubes.

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Small ladder made from styrene rod. Also some metal mesh, the only metal part in this tractor.

The grille used styrene sheet and strip; with Kneadatite epoxy to build the longer nose.

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The bumper is made of H-profile styrene rod; very convenient. Some more sheet was used to make a
more ramshackle look.

Turning the bed upside down gives us this nice armored look.

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Horrible wheels were changed to tractor's front wheels. I had to make custom axles and remove fenders.
The trailer's underside is now mostly putty; totally worth it.

The Mesh and flip-out window tie the trailer aesthetically to the tractor. I also glued the hydraulic tanks
back on, backwards.

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I added ventilation pipes and a barrel feeding in the trailer. I wonder what's inside; livestock maybe?
The ladder is made from iron wire.

Jewelry chain….Chain is cool….gotta have chain. The hooks are made of styrene rod.

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All finished! It's ready and it hungers for field work and violence.

Finished tractor – front 3/4 view

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Finished tractor – rear 3/4 view

Finished tractor with accessories

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Finished tractor with barn background

Finished trailer – side view

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Finished tractor & trailer – passenger side view

Finished tractor & trailer – driver side view

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 Zeds red revolver

Here I have a model of small garden tractor by Matchbox®, imaginatively named ‘Tractor’. Oh, boy,
how do they come up with these things?

Those big wheels were nice, but don't really scream “TRACTOR!”, so I removed the fenders and
consulted my pile of trash. I like these tires and rims much better.

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I cut the axle to proper length and butchered the wheels' inner sides so they fit snuggly, and drilled more
space for the axle. Oh yeah, the dinky exhaust had to go.

I don't usually like open topped vehicles, but old tractors are an exception. Rotary tool works nice, but
steel saws are fine too. The driver is from Revell® NATO pilots set with head swap from the same set;
it's called efficiency!

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This model didn't want to let go of its paint. Oh well. I used dome chain to fill my badly trimmed rear
end and classic frog eye headlights. The driver clearly approves of this.

I wanted some barbed wire details. It's hard to get it in this scale. So I made my own by spinning metal
wire around metal wire while adding some superglue. If the scale was bigger, I'd use two twisted wires
for the center wire.

After cutting away the excess I got a piece of barbed wire. This is just a little out of scale and was very
hard to photograph.

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I rolled it over the exhaust, because I couldn't find other place. I added some very minor adjustments
with needle files. I t's not the most menacing thing, but I really liked this project, as it has filled the most
important criteria: ‘The driver approves’.

Finished tractor – driver side view

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 Finished tractor – front 3/4 view

A completed United Dairy Fascist team

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Road invaders

Road Invader drone – passenger side view

Road Invader drone – driver side view

97
Road Invader drone – 3/4 side view

Road Invader drone – 3/4 side view

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Road Invader drone – passenger side view

Road Invader drone – driver side view

99
 Road Invader soldier – 3/4 side view

Road Invader soldier – passenger side view

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Road Invader soldier – front view

Road Invader queen – front view

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Road Invader queen – driver side view

Road Invader queen – driver side view

102
 SCENERY
GRASSLANDS is a game of combat racing set in the radio-active farming fields of what
was once The United State’s most valuable land. We would recommend a 3’x 6’ grassy
playing mat, which are available at a multitude of vendors. You can also get different
scales of farm animals from most vendors who sell model railroad accessories. Below,
are some yet-to-be-customized vehicles and model railroad scenery.

John Deere zero turn mower John Deere farm (heavy) truck

John Deere tractor Model railroad cows

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110
 Printable dice labels
Instructions – Copy and paste below dice labels into WORD or similar program. Use the
program’s ruler ability to size up or down the labels to the desired size. Color print labels
on adhesive label paper. Cut labels and affix them to dice.

Note: It is recommended to cut each column of labels (3 shifts, hazard, spin, slide), then
cut horizontally between the shift and hazard labels. This will create exactly two labels of
3 squares each that will need affixed to the die.

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 faqs
- Can I put two front-loaders on a vehicle (front and back)? ….. Yes

- Can I combine a front-loader and a ram on the same facing? ….. No

- Can I combine a front-loader and an explosive ram on the same facing? ….. Yes

- Can I use a GRASSLANDS faction in GASLANDS? ….. Yes, but you may only use
GRASSLANDS vehicles, and both players must readily agree. The Road Invaders are the
only GRASSLANDS faction that would be recommended for GASLANDS.

- Can I use a GASLANDS faction in GRASSLANDS? ….. Yes, but you may only use
GASLANDS vehicles, and both players must readily agree.

- Can I have more than one queen on a Road Invader team? ….. No

- Is it ok for multiple players to use the same faction? ….. Yes, there is plenty of intra-
faction feuding going on.

- What scale models are allowed? ….. 1/64 – 1/87

- Can I use two ‘allied’ factions to make up a team? ….. No, unless the rules state
otherwise.

- For the ‘Hay Rides’ rule, are the two build points strictly for the trailer? ….. Yes

- For the ‘Hay Rides’ rule, must any additional crew purchased (up to 4) remain in the
trailer? ….. Yes

- Does a heavy tractor with a hay trailer essentially become a war rig? ….. No, but it will
still benefit from trailer rules, such as ‘Piledriver’.

- Are all GRASSLANDS races on treacherous terrain? ….. Yes, the factions do not like
any “city slicker” vehicles in their races.

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 afterword
GRASSLANDS was born on April 1st of 2021, as an April Fool’s Day joke I posted on
reddit. The overall response from GASLANDS fans was initially frustration that so many
had fallen for the joke; but that soon gave way to curiosity. Many told me that a rural
version of GASLANDS would actually be really cool. At the time, I was producing the
40K anthology, ‘Millennium of War’, and my creative juices were already in high gear,
so I figured, “Why the hell not?”

The first step of any journey is the hardest, so I spoke with my gaming buddies about the
book, and we met at my friend’s farm for a normal weekend gaming session. He already
had a tractor, and we scrounged around his house for some props to get cosplay pictures.
At the time, I only had foggy ideas of what the game would be like. The four main
factions are based on the whims of what we dressed up as that day. I immediately went
for the Doctor Who hat and the heirloom pitchfork!

My next step was to reach out to the GASLANDS community for modelers who could
provide pictures and modeling techniques. Over the last few years, I had a couple of
vehicles (bulldozer, bus) that could be used for this book, but I was too strapped for time
to do all the modeling; plus, I am only mediocre at modeling and painting. The solution
was to reach out to the modelers on reddit. Knowing I would need top-shelf models for
print. A few brave modelers stepped up to the plate and sent me great pictures of their
models. One modeler had previously made the Road Invaders, and I liked them so much,
I made an entire faction for them. Linking great miniatures to intriguing lore is a skill I
am constantly trying to practice and perfect.

Reading this, you can probably feel some of the gaming influences I’ve been exposed to;
especially a certain “grim-dark” one that shall go nameless. After all, we are nothing but
a sum of our life experiences.

GASLANDS is a fantastic game, and I hope this supplement adds a lot of personality to
an already great sci-fi universe. Now would be a good time to thank Osprey for providing
not only a phenomenal game, but also handing the reins of their game to the gamers. In
all truth, without the gamers and fans, the game fades away into nothing. It’s so
refreshing to see a game company that is concerned more with making a fun gaming
system, than making profits for its shareholders. With that said, I hope everyone supports

113
anything Osprey, and make sure to buy the official ‘GASLANDS REFUELED’ book, if
you don’t already have it.

While this book is fine in its digital form, I would highly suggest you have it printed up
via one of the many online book publishing sites. In previous experience, it usually costs
less than $20.00 USD to have this printed as an 8”x 11” full-color softback, and around
$40.00 USD to have it printed as a full-color hardback. As previously stated, this book is
not for resale, so no ISBN is required to print this.

Before I wrap this up, I’d like to thank the modelers who put in many hours of hard work
to help this book become a reality. The picture they sent to me far exceeded my
expectations. Another special “thanks” goes to the gentlemen who got this squared into e-
pub format and posted on the Tabletop Campaign Repository.

I hope this book provides you endless hours of entertainment and inspires you to go out
and create or enhance a game. We gamers are the future of tabletop gaming. You can find
me on the GASLANDS reddit if you look hard enough, and I may even start my own
thread for GRASSLANDS. There will be future projects (see next page) upcoming if you
would like to contact me and contribute. Until then, we’ll see you on the
GRASSLANDS!

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or
where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is
actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly;
who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and
shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the
great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the
triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor
defeat.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

114
Jeb Van Kleavin, eldest son of Der Klutchman, picked up the heavy tractor battery and
shuffled over to the mountain of rusty tractor rims; pulling another wheel from the pile,
then haphazardly rolled it over to his workbench. He was 16 years old now and had been
slaving away in the bitter elements since he was five years old. Around his ankle was a
chain with four feet of slack that ended in a 50 pound tractor battery. Much like the old
days where prisoners were anchored to iron balls, he had been chained outside to this
battery for as long as he could remember. From dusk til dawn, every day of the year, the
young man did hard labor at the dreaded wheel pile. His only tools were a wooden mallet
used to pound out dents, and coarse sandpaper for scrubbing away rust. His hands were
heavily calloused and his arm muscles impressive. Perhaps this was the year his father
would finally let him participate in one of the races.

Der Klutchman was in the barn tinkering away on his latest project. It seems like there
was nothing he couldn’t build. Jeb decided he would risk the punishment of briefly leaving
his duties to see what his dad was up to. He secured his mallet to one of the hooks on his
dilapidated overalls and hoisted up the battery.

With his free hand, he pulled open the old barndoor and saw his father sitting on a milking
stool, working on some type of vehicle that still lacked wheels. Der Klutchman spared his
son a brief glance before turning his attentions back to the vehicle.

‘What are you doing in here, boy? Shouldn’t you be at the wheel pile?’

‘Father, momma said I turned sixteen this summer, and I figure it’s time that I join you
and uncle Jethro at the next race. With all this work on the rims, I’ve learned much about
circle-craft.’

‘You! Join me at the races?! Hmmph, you ain’t learned anything. Ten more years on the
wheels, boy!’ Der Klutchman responded in a gruff tone. ‘You neglected your duties,
dontcha know; go pick me a switch and prepare for a righteous thrashing.’

Jeb fought the urge to reach for his mallet. How badly he wanted to bash his father’s
brains in. He risked one last glance back at his goaler before going off to the Tree of Woe.

‘Before you beat me, can you at least tell me what you are working on?’

‘Well, I suppose I could tell you as much. This is an armor-plated fishing boat. Next
month, I’m heading way down south to the swamps for a new type of racing. I’m going
down to the Basslands.’

(BASSLANDS: The Swamp Will Rise Again – coming in 2022)

1
 GRASSLANDS
UDDER MAYHEM

The Cold War of the 1980s ended exactly as most predicted, with nuclear apocalypse. Death and
destruction rained down on over half the planet, and the survivors were forced to scavenge a
meager life in the radioactive wastelands. Some turned to the remaining cities to find work or
participate in the popular GASLANDS racing circuit. The rural areas were forced to fend for
themselves, and resourceful farmers found ways to manage the radioactive land, where herds of
mutant boars pillage the countryside and hissing needle-grass can dissolve a man in seconds flat.
Greed, aggression, and sheer boredom gave birth to a new racing circuit where tractors and other
farming vehicles careen around treacherous terrain, trying to outrun and outright murder the
competition.

This book is a rural expansion of the wildly popular game, GASLANDS. Tune up that riding
mover, oil, your tractor, and grab Pappy’s shotgun. Welcome to the GRASSLANDS!