It’s All Fun and Games Until Someone Gets—Part II: Topsy Turvy Beasts

An unusual game has just been brought out, one the human male received for his just-past birthday.  It involves trying to balance various animals on a plinth.  The animals are all angle-y and intriguing.

Sigyn, stop!

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You just met that bear!  You don’t know if he’s friendly or not.  And maybe he doesn’t like hugs.

I do not trust the eagle-condor-vulture thing, either.

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Back, winged fiend!  I know she’s snack-sized, but restrain yourself!

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The octopus, however,  is very friendly— and quite good at shaking hands.

This beast seems tame as well.

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What’s it called?  “Warthog?”  This must be the human female’s game piece, yes?

Sweet Glittering Bifrost!  What is that?!

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The game rules identify it as a Mythical Omni-Beast composed of some aspect of each of the others.  It has warthog tusks, a shark fin, the toucan beak, bear paws, and so on.  It’s a good thing it appears to be gentle, because Sigyn is thoroughly smitten.

No one knows what this piece does.

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Looks like the humans have managed to get the shark, the warthog, and a crossing symbol onto the plinth.  And a Sigyn.

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Ah!  Now it all begins to make more sense.

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The plinth is magic, and each animal piece has a small spell attached.  The magic can communicate with a computer so that the animals become part of a narrative on the screen.

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The object is to keep all the animals alive by “feeding” them “energy” with the polyhedral pieces that must also be balanced on the plinth.

The “cross” game piece does just that–it crosses two of the animals currently on the plinth.

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Which is how we managed to make a Ruffled Swinejaw

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I will admit, this is amusing.  It is giving me all sorts of good ideas for beasts I could engender to form part of my army.

So far, the humans are playing in what they call “co-op mode”, in which they all join efforts to stack as many animals and generate as many bizarre mutants as possible.  That is all well and good, but where is the competition?  Where is the striving?  I think we need to invoke Battle Mode, where a card deck comes into play.

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That way, I can play cards like this:

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Or this! 

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Truly!  I think I have found MY game!

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It’s All Fun and Games Until Someone Gets—Part I: No, Actually, It IS all Fun and Games

The humans are doing that thing they do again, that Thing that takes days of planning and preparation, that involves moving a lot of heavy things in very hot weather, that involves cooking and cleaning and logistics enough to move an invading army over the Alps in winter without the aid of hippopotami…

I speak, of course, of  the Summer Gaming Gathering.  

There are friends coming from far and wide, including the Blue-haired Goddaughter and the Knittery Friend.  They’ll all be bringing games and food and family members.  Sigyn and I will probably go for a little bit.  I like to try games I can cheat at win, and Sigyn likes talking to people and playing with game pieces that look like little animals.

I have involved myself rather more than usual this year, by making the clubhouse in the humans’ subdivision unavailable for the final two days of the gaming.  The human male and his friends looked high and low for a substitute venue and were just about to plunk down a Lot of Money to rent a space, when one of the gaming friends convinced the local Cookie Sprout troop to rent them their  meeting house for those two days, very cheaply.  I was sad to see the other deal fall through, because I had a kickback arranged, but I am consoling myself with the fact that there will be TWO venues for the humans to have to clean, and the second place has TWO bathrooms, one with not one but two toilets, so the human female will have extra, EXTRA potties to scrub.

The guests are arriving and the games are coming out.  The human male says this one is fun to play.  It has “Explosion” in the name–so I am intrigued.

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Any game that involves pieces that will roll around and get underfoot and go under the furniture is all right in my book, although it would be better if some of the marbles were green. 

This game has cards, as well as markers with strange symbols.

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I think the artwork is giving Sigyn wardrobe ideas.

This next one is getting a lot of play. Sigyn, let’s insinuate ourselves into the fun.  It involves getting someone to guess the Mystery Word using just one-word clues–and no two hinters can give the same clue, or that clue goes away.  That is, one could say “wick” or “beeswax” if the mystery word was “candle,” but if two people say, “wick”, “wick” will not be one of the clues the guesser gets.  So do you give the obvious clue or not?

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Ehehehe!  I just whispered in the players’ ears and ALL of the clues were the same, so the guesser now has to guess the word “parachute” with NO hints at all!  Diabolical.

Oooh!  Ooh! I know!  I’ll make the next guesser have to come up with “the human female.”  All right.  The guesser has his eyes closed, the other players have written down their clues,  and now they are silently comparing notes.  The hints are “botanist,” “cookies,” “clumsy-stupid” (hyphenated words are allowed), and “sweetie.”  Deal with that.

This next game is getting a lot of attention too.  It’s much more complex and seems to have some sort of avian bias.  I think, if one played long enough, one could learn something about birds, and the artwork is quite nice.  Sigyn, unfortunately, is so occupied in trying to keep the eggs warm that she’s having trouble remembering all the rules.

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Those last two games seem to have won some sort of award.   I think it’s a safe bet that copies of both will eventually be coming to live with the humans.  Where the male is going to put them, I have no idea.  If I were nice, I’d make some sort of pocket-dimension spell for him, one that would allow him to store an infinite number of games in a single small room.

But I’m not, so I won’t.

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More Mischief is Always Better. Part III: The Logical Conclusion

Someone took me to task yesterday over the whole giving-the-human-female’s-social-security-number-to-an-illegal-alien thing.

He’s a small, squashable toad now and has presumably learned his lesson about trying to lecture me about politics or economics.

But he did give me a good idea about how to round out this bout of mischief.

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⍙⟒ ⏃⍀⟒ ⌿⍀⍜⎍⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⊬ ⏁⍜ ⟊⍜⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎎⏃⌇⏁ ⎎⍜⍜⎅ ⍙⍜⍀☍⎎⍜⍀☊⟒!

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More Mischief is Always Better. Part II: An Excess of Philanthropy

After I set up Arnold’s monkey with the human female’s social security number, I sat down and had a good, long “think” about what I’d done.

And, folks, I wasn’t pleased.

I mean, I’d used her SSN to give a documented identity to someone who was already pretty well off.  Granted, Remus is paid peanuts–literally–but he’s got a cushy gig working in Arnold’s lab.  Why, I asked myself, hadn’t I taken the opportunity to create a fake identity for someone less fortunate?  Someone who could really benefit from documentation?

So meet Luis.

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Luis is overjoyed to no longer be an undocumented construction worker.  Congratulations, Luis!

And here are Paul, Ali, and Piotr:

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Welcome to the workforce, fellas!

And there’s still more of the human female’s identity to spread around.

Here you go, Manuela, Young Hee.

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Go, all of you, and be brick-layers or nannies or hairdressers or astronauts or whatever!  I don’t care, as long as you do the human female out of her next federal income tax return and snarl up any retirement benefits she may ever have.

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Augh! Manuela!  No hugs!  NO HUGS!

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More Mischief is Always Better. Part I: A Favor For an Old Friend

When I saw how shocked/dismayed/horrified the human female was to learn that some complete stranger had stolen her Social Security Number and her identity, I will admit, I felt things.

Remorse?  Pity? Compassion?

Snort.  Have you met me?

They say there’s such a thing as carrying a prank too far but, ladies and gentlemen,

I scoff.

More mischief is always better!  

And since there is already some stranger out there wandering around with her SSN and identity, I figured it couldn’t hurt too badly if there were a friend out there wandering around with it too.  “The evil you know,” and all that.

Which is why I have taken the delightful liberty of using her number to provide a fiscal identity for someone who is actually already employed, albeit off the books.

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Someone who’d like to step into the light and become a documented member of the work force.

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Here you go, Remus.

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Arnold, that flea-riddled simian of yours is now more than just a banana-throwing lab experiment.

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Congratulations, Remus!  You make America proud!

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