J
jbfrady
Guest
It was just a game, until it wasn't. This year it became something more. Something more sinister.
May this thread serve as my accounting of what happened, and of my confession of my sins therein. What follows is a story of lies, of intrigue, of conspiracy. This account isn't based on a true story, or based on true events. No, this is a true story, and only the facts have been changed.
It all started with a phone call from the Scandies. You'd know them as STG and the henchmen and goons they employ. The game was afoot and they told me there were watching. I told them it was just a game but they told me that I was fooling myself. They told me that a war was brewing for support of the pipe community and that as such, each battle had to be won.
The Scandies told me that they knew a Gawith Hoggarth blend won last year and that they'd be damned if they were to allow that to happen again. They were dismayed at the number of C&D and GLP blends on the board and they were bewildered by the scant showing of STG blends by comparison. Where was the Dunhill Flake? (It came in 2nd last year.) And Salty Dogs? De Luxe Navy Rolls? Were these people fucking stupid?
I told them that I didn't control the nominations. Once more I reminded them that this was just a game, nothing more. Were it not for the phone separating us they'd have laughed in my face. They told me to make sure that Escudo won, that I should use my heavenly gift of prose to sway the forum users away from those glorious VaPer rolls and onto the villainous blends that dared stand in their way. They told me that if I succeeded, I'd receive a lifetime supply of Escudo. How could I refuse?
So I did. I kept voting up Escudo under the guise of supporting a classic and I used my silver-tongued keyboard to direct users away, As @sablebrush52 noted, I delivered the kiss of death to my wanton foes. But then a wrinkle in the plan arose. Ol' Sable kept pumping up Cringle Flake. As much as the Scandies hated GLP and C&D, they hated Santa's fat ass more.
This was a Sutliff blend. Sutliff, the house they'd recently acquired and now intended to devour. Having a Sutliff staple win the game would be even worse outcome than was otherwise anticipated. So I received another phone call, as well as further orders. I wasn't just to up-vote Escudo. It was time to take matters further. It was time for hanging chads. Disrupting votes.
I told the Scandies that I wasn't up to such revelry, that even my rubbery morality drew the line at interference. Once more, they laughed. "It's a great life you've got there," they told me. "Be a shame if we had to ruin it." The listed off the names and addresses of my family and friends. They knew where I lived, what kind of food my dog ate (the good shit I buy at Whole Foods. He's spoiled.) and more.
For a third time I tried telling them that this was just a game on an obscure forum with a meager amount of participants and were it not for the phone between us I believe I'd have been slapped. "To you," they growled, "this is just a game. But to us, your life is just a game. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it." After a brief pause there was a slight chuckle. "I always wanted to say that," the Scandie said.
Shit got real. I disrupted the votes. I didn't skim much off the top at first but as the game went on I got cocky. I started swiping three, four, seven hit points off Cringle at a time. But that oversized, red-coated fucker just. wouldn't. die.
I got desperate. I tried too hard, too often, but you've got to understand... I was in it to save my family. And then I was found out. I got fingered for the crime I'd committed and while I employed my immeasurable skills at wordcraft, deploying smoke and mirrors at every turn, embedded in every corner... I was still found out.
One user had the courage to unveil the criminal discrepancies in his midst. One user had the moral fortitude to aim a finger without factoring the several aimed back at himself. One Robespierre had the courage to...
I asked what would happen now. To me, to my family. They asked what I was talking about. “It’s just a game,” they said. “It always was.”
---
In all seriousness, I do apologize for the faults contained within my game. I dropped Accounting 101 back in college, thinking it was worthless and tedious, and I suppose now it's nibbling at my ass if not biting me in it.
I've had several of you message me to ask the fate of the game and you've expressed the fondness you have for all the shit slinging and trash talking amid the senselessness of it all and it's put many a smile on my face. I appreciate everyone who's played it - both this year and the last - and it's you who's made running the game my favorite part of being a forum member here.
I suppose that rings a tad sentimental and in a way, it really is. I'm glad for the messages I've received because I'm happy to have contributed to your days. This post is all to say that I'm sorry the game ended, but if there's a need to blame anybody, please blame me.
The mods here do great and thankless work and the thread got locked because it was indeed out of hand. While I could have started a new thread to continue the game with unchanging rules and strictures, even then I couldn't have realistically promised that no counting errors would've been made, that no arguments would ensue, etc. I didn't wish to put the burden of my game onto the mods.
In a way, the thread was chasing a feeling that I enjoyed a year ago and I don't know that I could've started a second, separate thread without frustration ensuing both from myself and others, thus reinstating the issue that got the first thread locked. For that reason, I've decided to call it where it lies rather than restarting it.
Thanks to everybody who participated in this ludicrous game and who took time out of your days to comment. I'll probably do the same again next year because I'm a glutton for punishment, and I'll try to master the accounting whose course I dropped way back when.
Cheers, my friends...
P.S. We'll always have Pegasus
May this thread serve as my accounting of what happened, and of my confession of my sins therein. What follows is a story of lies, of intrigue, of conspiracy. This account isn't based on a true story, or based on true events. No, this is a true story, and only the facts have been changed.
It all started with a phone call from the Scandies. You'd know them as STG and the henchmen and goons they employ. The game was afoot and they told me there were watching. I told them it was just a game but they told me that I was fooling myself. They told me that a war was brewing for support of the pipe community and that as such, each battle had to be won.
The Scandies told me that they knew a Gawith Hoggarth blend won last year and that they'd be damned if they were to allow that to happen again. They were dismayed at the number of C&D and GLP blends on the board and they were bewildered by the scant showing of STG blends by comparison. Where was the Dunhill Flake? (It came in 2nd last year.) And Salty Dogs? De Luxe Navy Rolls? Were these people fucking stupid?
I told them that I didn't control the nominations. Once more I reminded them that this was just a game, nothing more. Were it not for the phone separating us they'd have laughed in my face. They told me to make sure that Escudo won, that I should use my heavenly gift of prose to sway the forum users away from those glorious VaPer rolls and onto the villainous blends that dared stand in their way. They told me that if I succeeded, I'd receive a lifetime supply of Escudo. How could I refuse?
So I did. I kept voting up Escudo under the guise of supporting a classic and I used my silver-tongued keyboard to direct users away, As @sablebrush52 noted, I delivered the kiss of death to my wanton foes. But then a wrinkle in the plan arose. Ol' Sable kept pumping up Cringle Flake. As much as the Scandies hated GLP and C&D, they hated Santa's fat ass more.
This was a Sutliff blend. Sutliff, the house they'd recently acquired and now intended to devour. Having a Sutliff staple win the game would be even worse outcome than was otherwise anticipated. So I received another phone call, as well as further orders. I wasn't just to up-vote Escudo. It was time to take matters further. It was time for hanging chads. Disrupting votes.
I told the Scandies that I wasn't up to such revelry, that even my rubbery morality drew the line at interference. Once more, they laughed. "It's a great life you've got there," they told me. "Be a shame if we had to ruin it." The listed off the names and addresses of my family and friends. They knew where I lived, what kind of food my dog ate (the good shit I buy at Whole Foods. He's spoiled.) and more.
For a third time I tried telling them that this was just a game on an obscure forum with a meager amount of participants and were it not for the phone between us I believe I'd have been slapped. "To you," they growled, "this is just a game. But to us, your life is just a game. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it." After a brief pause there was a slight chuckle. "I always wanted to say that," the Scandie said.
Shit got real. I disrupted the votes. I didn't skim much off the top at first but as the game went on I got cocky. I started swiping three, four, seven hit points off Cringle at a time. But that oversized, red-coated fucker just. wouldn't. die.
I got desperate. I tried too hard, too often, but you've got to understand... I was in it to save my family. And then I was found out. I got fingered for the crime I'd committed and while I employed my immeasurable skills at wordcraft, deploying smoke and mirrors at every turn, embedded in every corner... I was still found out.
One user had the courage to unveil the criminal discrepancies in his midst. One user had the moral fortitude to aim a finger without factoring the several aimed back at himself. One Robespierre had the courage to...
I asked what would happen now. To me, to my family. They asked what I was talking about. “It’s just a game,” they said. “It always was.”
---
In all seriousness, I do apologize for the faults contained within my game. I dropped Accounting 101 back in college, thinking it was worthless and tedious, and I suppose now it's nibbling at my ass if not biting me in it.
I've had several of you message me to ask the fate of the game and you've expressed the fondness you have for all the shit slinging and trash talking amid the senselessness of it all and it's put many a smile on my face. I appreciate everyone who's played it - both this year and the last - and it's you who's made running the game my favorite part of being a forum member here.
I suppose that rings a tad sentimental and in a way, it really is. I'm glad for the messages I've received because I'm happy to have contributed to your days. This post is all to say that I'm sorry the game ended, but if there's a need to blame anybody, please blame me.
The mods here do great and thankless work and the thread got locked because it was indeed out of hand. While I could have started a new thread to continue the game with unchanging rules and strictures, even then I couldn't have realistically promised that no counting errors would've been made, that no arguments would ensue, etc. I didn't wish to put the burden of my game onto the mods.
In a way, the thread was chasing a feeling that I enjoyed a year ago and I don't know that I could've started a second, separate thread without frustration ensuing both from myself and others, thus reinstating the issue that got the first thread locked. For that reason, I've decided to call it where it lies rather than restarting it.
Thanks to everybody who participated in this ludicrous game and who took time out of your days to comment. I'll probably do the same again next year because I'm a glutton for punishment, and I'll try to master the accounting whose course I dropped way back when.
Cheers, my friends...
P.S. We'll always have Pegasus
Last edited by a moderator:
resulting in some glaring, persistent “ticks”?
