My thirsty witnesses, my delectable temporaries, pull up a stool. You look like the sort who has seen too much. It is a rainy Tuesday in Pennsauken, New Jersey—the kind of drizzle that feels like the sky is simply giving up—and the neon sign above the bar is buzzing in a frequency that suggests it might be trying to communicate a very specific, very unpleasant secret. You have arrived at the hour of the Last Call. Not the one the bartender shouts to clear the floor... but the one the universe whispers when it is on its way out.
The signal arrived sometime after midnight, soaked in spilled ale, cigarette smoke, and the kind of decision-making process that only begins with the phrase “one more round won’t kill us.” Regrettably, history continues to dispute that claim.
Tonight’s recovered material is Last Call of Cthulhu, a delightfully irresponsible little artifact for Chaosium’s Call of Cthulhu. Written by Pete Burgess, Last Call of Cthulhu is a 59-page modern horror supplement where your beverage selection becomes every bit as mechanically important as your dice rolls.
Which, frankly, fits like a perfect shoe.
For years, tabletop horror has asked investigators to witness impossible geometries, forbidden rituals, extradimensional parasites, and New England academics making catastrophic life choices all while sipping lukewarm soda like pedestrians. Last Call of Cthulhu finally addresses this oversight with the seriousness it deserves.
And by “seriousness,” we mean drinking game mechanics tied directly to failed rolls, sanity loss, fumbles, disastrous player decisions, and the general collapse of human judgment.
It is as The Procedure intended.
The setting includes:
- Player drinking game rules designed specifically for shorter-form Call of Cthulhu sessions,
- The Trip, a 3–4 hour modern-era scenario for 2–4 investigators,
- full-color maps and handouts,
- four pre-generated investigators printed on beer mats,
- and — perhaps most importantly — cocktail recipes contributed by members of the broader Call of Cthulhu community, including Mike Mason, Lynne Hardy, Joe Trier, Bridgett Jeffries, Jon Hook, T. A. Newman, and others from the mythos-soaked corners of the hobby.
And darling readers? We need to discuss those cocktail recipes.
Because once you realize a Call of Cthulhu scenario can include themed drinks curated by the community itself, it becomes impossible to return to ordinary supplements pretending this should not be standard operating procedure. The moment you hand investigators a prop cocktail menu while they debate whether opening the basement door constitutes “a terrible idea” or merely “an educational opportunity,” the entire table chemistry changes.
This is no longer a nice-to-have, it shall be a requirement. Every future cosmic horror release should include:
- at least one dangerously thematic beverage,
- a recipe named after an unknowable entity,
- and a warning label written in the tone of a classified government briefing.
The industry has evolved. The signal has moved forward. The rest of you must catch up.
As for The Trip itself, the scenario wisely avoids sprawling complexity in favor of tight atmospheric horror: investigators trapped in an isolated English pub, surrounded by increasingly unsettling locals, while something deeply wrong unfolds around them over the course of a single long night. It is compact, tense, funny in exactly the right places, and perfectly calibrated for convention play or one catastrophic weekend session with friends you trust enough to watch descend into alcohol-assisted paranoia together.
Operational details for the archivists among you:
- System: Call of Cthulhu
- Format: PDF / Softcover / Premium Color Book
- Length: 59 pages
- File Size: 32.15 MB
- Interior art and design by Pete Burgess, Sumit Roy, and Colin Richards
Recovered material available here:
Last Call of Cthulhu on DriveThruRPG
Promotional transmission:
Somewhere tonight, faithful receivers, somebody is rolling a fumble while holding a themed cocktail named after an eldritch abomination. And for one shining moment before the consequences arrive, they are experiencing tabletop horror exactly as the cosmos intended. Pinkies out, everyone.