Muse Academy Game Room
Ready when you are.
Date: June 26, 2009
Categories: Muse Academy, Nonrandom Craziness
Tuesday, 23 April 2024
Life, the universe, pies, hot-pink bunnies, world domination, and everything
Ready when you are.
Date: June 26, 2009
Categories: Muse Academy, Nonrandom Craziness
From POSOC:
Long Version: There are at least eight major suits: Herons, Hares, Hedgepigs, Roses, Eclairs, Peanut Butter, Chorley Cakes, and Muffins. These consist of the usual rankings: Ace, King, Queen, Jack (or Knave), 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 (or Deuce). There are a multitude of combinations one can make from these, which create various effects on the game, and more are being invented all the time. In addition to the standard cards, there are several dozen rare cards, which either cannot be categorized into any suit (such as Anarchy, HPB, and Cheshire Cat) or are specialized variants of a suit (such as Wung of Jasmine or Mess of Eclairs), and have various specialized uses. These are also being invented throughout the game. A notable one is the Golden Wung, which can only be played by the High Bailiff and signifies the end of a round. When a round ends, all temporary rules in the previous round are made null unless otherwise specified.
There are a great variety of points, the major ones being Creativity Ceylon and Wung. Wung points can only be placed on the table by the High Bailiff. They can be brought into play when the Bailiff awards them to a player or when a player lays a claim to them. In the latter case, a claim can be challenged by another player or players. The claimants then battle it out for the wung points. Wung points, once in the hands of a player, can be exchanged willingly between players or captured from a previous owner in a duel.
Creativity Ceylon points can be arbitrarily created and awarded to other players once created, for acts of great honor or imagination.
All kinds of points can be placed at the four cardinal directions to create various offensive and defensive positions.
Short Version: Make it up as you go along.
I’m the High Bailiff, and I hereby lay down the Golden Wung and end the round. All unclaimed Wung Points return to my hand, and all previous paradigms (including Master Baker’s voiding of nonstandard cards) are no more. All players new to the game receive, as is custom, ten free starter Wung Points. We’ll be using the same board as last round, with the same bastions, so we can get started right away. Play on, Musers.
What’s this?
Second that.
Simply a fun virtual card game going around! Feel free to jump in, and the rules are right up there!
It’s Paker. It’s all explained in the first post there.
May I be the Bailiff? Please?
If you think you can handle it, keep the game under control, sure. From now on, it’s your problem to explain the game, how to play, who gets points, how all the moves interact, who’s breaking the rules, what needs to be done to get the game moving, etc., etc., etc. Remember, though, that the Grand Bailiff is not a player. No Wung Points, no attacks, minimal laying of cards. If you think that’ll be fun, go ahead, but I’ll take the position back if you decide you don’t find it to be as exciting as you expected.
I do think it will be fun. Is the board always the same? Do I have to use your board?
Are we starting a new game, or continuing the old one?
Let’s start a new one! It’s fun!
Ok. I am the Bailiff.I deal out 10 wung points to everyone who has joined. I create the board, made to imitate a royal palace. There are the North, West, South, and East Towers, and a royal garden. I put in the paradigm of voiding all non-standard cards, and the paradigm putting in the Pope of chorley cakes, ect, which is above a king, and worth a 14. You start, Cat’s Eye.
Hm. I put an Eight of Eclairs in the East Tower, thereby invoking the Alliteration Paradigm in thirds. This causes anyone who attacks the East Tower to be unable to say a sentence with two words beginning with the same letter said next to one another for three turns. If they inadvertantely break this rule, one of their cards is teleported into space, where every molecule in it attempts to expand at once because of the lack of air pressure, and it explodes bloodily.
Your move, Gimanator. If you’re playing.
Enceladus, no wung points. Please remove them from your name.
I didn’t award them to myself, you awarded them to me in an earlier game.
I don’t think wung points carry over from earlier games.
11-Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t feel like playing right now. Continue without me.
Ok, then whoever wants to can step in.
I lay a 2 of Muffins and a Ace of Peanut Butter side by side just outside the East Tower.
Enceladus, no wung points. Please remove them from your name. The Grand Bailiff is not allowed to have them. Furthermore, you don’t have to micromanage the game–people know when it’s their turn, and there’s no maximum number of players. Just let the game carry on.
Fine. KaiYves gets control of them, until the round finishes.
I take the 10 wung points given to me as a new player, and lay the Queen of Eclairs into the Royal Garden, which has a number of potential expansions: Eclair Bastion, Royal Eclair Bastion, Queen’s Bastion, etc.
-Bookworm (10 Wung Points)
I lay down the 8 of Chorley Cakes into the East Tower.
Also, outside of the game: I am a new player. (Never played more than one turn in any game). At the end of the last game, Piggy gave ten Wung points to all new players. At the start of this game, Enceladus gave ten to everybody. Do I now have ten Wung points or twenty?
Well, Enceladus said, “I deal out 10 wung points to everyone who has joined,” so I think everyone gets ten extra Wung Points. So now you have twenty.
Okay then.
Anyone here?
IS ANYONE HERE?
PEOPLE COME HERE KYAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*guilty grin* I forgot, sorry…
I then lay a 2 of Peanut butter and an Ace of Muffins side by side on the opposite side of the East Tower. The 4 cards combine into the 42 Peanut-Flavored Muffins card, which traps the 8 of Chorley Cakes in the Tower.
((umm…didn’t you just do that?))
I lay down a six of Roses outside the East Tower, temporarily distracting the Muffins and letting the 8 of Chorley Cakes move to the west tower.
Also, J.W., you said “cards combine”. One of your cards must now, what was it again, oh yes, teleport into space and explode bloodily. (see post ten).
Oh…nevermind. they’re different cards. sorry.
I play the Peanut Allergy card (see previous game, though you may have to hunt through quite a lot of posts… I think it’s near the beginning) to disable the 42 Peanut-Flavored Muffins card.
I reappear as the High Bailiff.
I give Cat’s Eye 1/4th of a penance point for using a non-standard card, and disobeying the paradigm. The penance point, once you have five complete ones, you are dislocated from this universe (as in this thread) and relocated to one of the 2007 April Bunny Threads.
I respectfully point out that the paradigm is no longer in effect. See Piggy’s post containing the summary of the rules.
(Sorry, I just happened to notice that. It wouldn’t take long to put the paradigm back into effect, but until then, awarding penance points is unfair.)
9- But the Pope is the head of the Conspiracy! (Don’t ask. Just don’t.)
I finally come back and look around. After a few seconds, I give up figuring out what’s happening, and arrange my Three of Roses, and Three of Chorely Cakes around a fountain in the Royal Garden, where they become shady resting place with refreshments. This distracts people from my real reinforcements, and encourages them to sit in the shade.
I am dealt a hand, and play the Six of Peanut Butter in the West Tower.
*coughComeBackHerePleasecough*
I am dealt a hand and I play the eight of eclairs just outside the east tower.
COME BACK HERE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS THREAD NEEDS SERIOUS REVIVING!
Uhumm.
I fling an 6 of Herons randomly in the air ind it flutters to the ground and becomes a squaking bird. This distracts many.
I play the Six of Eclairs onto my Six of Peanut Butter, thereby creating six Peanut Butter Eclairs. I attempt to sell them to Errata’s resting place and refreshment stand.
(Logging out and back it is so much trouble, so I’ll just make note of my Wung Points here.)
23 Wung Points
I throw the Deuce of Eclairs at peary’s bird. It becomes cakes on the way down, and the bird eagerly eats them. It then flies over to me, joining my forces out of gratitude. I quickly play the three and the eight of hedgepigs, creating thirty-eight loyal troupes to back up the Heron. Ranging them around my center, I play a ten of Hares, and set them to digging a network of tunnels in the middle of my defenses, as a hiding place for my Wung Points.
I play a four of eclairs. To make a long story short, I end up eating four eclairs.
Can I join? This sounds really fun, but also really confusing.
Of course you may.
And you’re right. It is very fun, and very confusing.
I would like to play too, and I’ve read the rules, but I really hate playing a game unless I know I’m doing it right. It’s almost OCDish. I’ll read through this thread to make sure I know what I’m doing…
I throw a four of eclairs at Errata’s heron and hedgepigs, who become distracted, and start fighting over them.
I watch as my heron flies away, but I find a few tens of Roses in my pocket which I use to build a wall of roses.
I play the 3 and 7 of Eclairs, which combine to form a Silver Eclair of Luck. I also play a 8 of Hedgepigs and a 6 of Chorleycakes, which the hedgepig eats.
I would like to join this. How does it work?
Make it up as you go along.
I play a three of hares, which I station around the West Tower. I then play the Pope of Roses (Enceladus created the Pope as High Bailiff) on top of the West Tower, thereby transforming it into a gigantic rose, with a staircase of thorns and chambers within the stem and petals.
I place a Transmutation Card upon my Eclair, which transforms into a pie. I then place the Queen of Hedgepigs, who throws the (somewhat acidic) pie at the west tower, causing the rose to wither. Finally, I plant the 2 and 3 of Chorleycakes, which the Queen of Hedgepigs makes into a wall.
I walk in, survey the dust, and end the round. After gathering the cards and cleaning the board, I end the game entirely. All wung point counts are reset. I humbly ask the GAPAs to make a new version of this thread in another attempt to play a rousing, lively game of Paker.
*ahem* WHO WANTS TO PLAY PAKER?
Ooh! I wanna play! Mememe! Paker! Paker! Let’s start a new round!
All right, we have one player. Who else? Come on, everyone. No need to be nervous.
“No need to be nervous”? The last game came within a microsecond or so of destroying the universe.
Oh, hush. It didn’t quite make it to Armageddon, did it? We know when to stop.
Some not-entirely-uninformed observers might not-entirely-unreasonably conclude that the new game has already lasted too long. But there’s no stopping Paker players when the fever starts to rise…
Why is this game capable of destroying the universe? Doesn’t anything involving MBers have the potential to do that anyway?
Now that I check, it wasn’t exactly the most recent game. We’ve had a couple of less exciting ones since. But the game that ended in the Hare & Hedgepig in April 2008 certainly sounded as if it had universe-destroying potential. Now the H&H has a permanently sealed cupboard, and Paker games have been moved here, to a special high-level containment area on campus at Muse Academy.
I’m in. Again.
Roight. How many players should we wait for before we begin the game? (Note: I’m the bailiff, so I’m not technically playing.)
Can I play? (I have no idea how, but why not? )
I suppose I’ll try. I gotta let the inner randomness in me run free sometimes.
Sounds cool to me.
Sorry for my n00bishness, but what’s Paker?
For the point of view, Paker (AKA Iceland Hold ‘Em) sort of switches between RPG and H&H. By that, I mean that, when laying down a card, you say, “I lay down the four of Knaves†(NOT A REAL CARD) “and end my turn.†However, you can talk normally without having to put your words in quotes.
P.S.: I shall again be the High Bailiff for this game. You can refer to me as Piggy, the High Bailiff, Bailiff, or any other such term. I will not respond to Bailey or “Hey, you!â€
And a summary of the rules, as written by the wonderful POSOC:
Long Version: There are at least eight major suits: Herons, Hares, Hedgepigs, Roses, Eclairs, Peanut Butter, Chorley Cakes, and Muffins. These consist of the usual rankings: Ace, King, Queen, Jack (or Knave), 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 (or Deuce). There are a multitude of combinations one can make from these, which create various effects on the game, and more are being invented all the time. In addition to the standard cards, there are several dozen rare cards, which either cannot be categorized into any suit (such as Anarchy, HPB, and Cheshire Cat) or are specialized variants of a suit (such as Wung of Jasmine or Mess of Eclairs), and have various specialized uses. These are also being invented throughout the game. A notable one is the Golden Wung, which can only be played by the High Bailiff and signifies the end of a round. When a round ends, all temporary rules in the previous round are made null unless otherwise specified.
There are a great variety of points, the major ones being Creativity Ceylon and Wung. Wung points can only be placed on the table by the High Bailiff. They can be brought into play when the Bailiff awards them to a player or when a player lays a claim to them. In the latter case, a claim can be challenged by another player or players. The claimants then battle it out for the wung points. Wung points, once in the hands of a player, can be exchanged willingly between players or captured from a previous owner in a duel.
Creativity Ceylon points can be arbitrarily created and awarded to other players once created, for acts of great honor or imagination.
All kinds of points can be placed at the four cardinal directions to create various offensive and defensive positions.
Short Version: Make it up as you go along.
{I did a little bit of researching, ( ) and these are the rules I found, reposted by Piggy on one of the old Muse Academy threads but created by POSOC…unless there were any major changes in them, I think this is pretty much it.}
Okay. Thank ye.
I’m in. I believe I had twenty-three Wung Points at last count.
Errata: Don’t neglect your chess game.
Okay, we have Cat’s Eye, Jakob Wonkychair, Starr, Cello-Playing Mathematician, Cromwell, and Errata, and LBK seems interested.
As I said in comment 41, I’ve reset all hung point counts. Everyone playing now has ten points, and when more people join they will automatically receive ten points to start off with as well.
I will be the Grand Bailiff for this game.
For those of you new to Paker, I suppose a short explanation of the things not covered in the rules would be in order, yes? Basically, as has been said before, it’s Calvinball with cards. Games take place on… eh, we’ll use this board: games take place on a large square board with a compass overlaid; therefore you can lay cards down in, say, the northwest corner or along the south edge, for example. Cards are often laid down to form large structures, mostly fortresses and bastions. All sorts of strange paradoxes may come up at any time. You can read through the old Student Lounge threads and the earlier versions of the H&H to read examples of games being played.
I, as Grand Bailiff, hold sole privilege to award and take away wung points to and from any player, so no stealing. However, if I do lay wung points down on the board directly, any player can attempt to lay down an attack and win the points.
As for wung points themselves, you can either keep track of them in your names or in a separate location. I will be attempting to keep official score myself, but if the game begins going too quickly I may lose track.
In any case, everyone, take a hand from the deck now.
To begin the game, I lay down a large bastion in the center north, consisting of a royal flush of Eclairs, the three through nine of Peanut Butter, and the Knaves and Kings of both Hares and Hedgepigs. I place five wung points in the center of the bastion.
Let the game begin!
Oh, sorry, I missed that.
Also: please take your turns in first-level comments so they’re more visible. If the game started to branch off in the nesties, it would be very difficult to follow.
I let a Knave of Herons float from my hand. It lands 1/3 of the board length southeast from the center.
Can I play?
I begin a bastion by playing the Eight of Roses and the Eight of Hedgepigs in the center of the eastern half of the board.
I’ll play!
I place a three of Cakes and a three of Muffins next to cromwell’s Knave of Herons southeast from the center surrounding en’s card on both sides.
I play the seven of Roses on the north end of the board.
I settle the two of Peanut Butter alongside the North Tower.
I place the Deuce of Hares by the Peanut Butter side of the bastion, creating a Hare-Peanut Butter Paradox. This causes any attacking it to get peanut butter in their hair, invoking the Incredibly Lame Pun clause.
I place the Jack of Hedgepigs on the West center of the board,
and the 2 of Eclairs on the South side of Cello-Playing Mathematician’s seven of Roses in the North.
Note: You can explain what your cards do when you lay them down. As Cat’s Eye has shown, cards tend to have all sorts of strange effects when played correctly.
I play the six and eight of Herons on either side of my seven of Roses. Their wings, coupled with the North Wind card, blow all cards that are not Herons or Roses off of the board.
Come ON, people! Am I the only one keeping this thread on the “Most Popular” list?
I put down the four of Peanut Butter next to the six of Herons, which causes the board to shoot peanut butter sandwiches into everybody’s face.
Paker?
Yes, please! Deal me in!
Oooh, there’s already a game going on… never mind.
Plunge in, Alice. The rules are flexible enough to accommodate late entrants. If need be, the bailiff can simply declare that you’ve always been here.
What are you talking about? Alice has been here the whole time. She still has ten wung points.
67.1.1.1- Right. I was just…drinking tea. In a corner.
Ten wung points…cool.
I will play once someone else has played because I find that I have become rather hazy and cannot remember all the suits.
See comment 1 or comment 50.1 for the rules, which include the standard suits.
*playing*
I place down the 7 and 8 of Peanut Butter, a 3 of Chorley Cakes, the 4 through 9 of Roses, and the King and Queen of Hedgepigs. The king and queen spread the peanut butter on the Chorley Cakes and eat them before planting the roses on the south side of the board to form an impenetrable hedge.
(SFTDP, but I forgot to do this earlier.)
I play the 6 of Chorley Cakes and 9 of Eclairs, which transform into the 42 of Hares. The hare turns into an Infinite Improbability Drive, which suddenly gives the board a fifth side.
*keeps remembering things right after hitting comment*
Also, the Infinite Improbability Drive multiplies the 5 Wung points in the bastion Piggy created by 1.7 and makes them appear in front of me, and I claim them.
70.1- I was wondering when someone would claim those points.
Worried about what will happen with the IID, I place another seven wung points a few beats south of the hedge that sprouted in post 69. I also decide to protect the original bastion by laying down a row of Muffins, which react with the Eclairs to create a Predictable Forcefield, which will (hopefully) prevent the game from becoming so unpredictable as to become unplayable.
I play a Knave of Hares, which walks around the board and takes random Chorley Cakes and peanut butter, and a 3 of Herons, which uses the Chorley Cakes and peanut butter to create a bastion nearby the southnorth (5th) side.
I take a chance and play a deuce of Roses, along with a 4 of Roses. This creates the 42 of Roses, which inverts the Predictable Forcefield. This means that anybody wishing to play a normal card must first say the name of the card backwards in order to play it.
I play the “8 fo snoreH”, which presses a button on the IID. The IID reverses gravity (and turns all nearby objects upside down) so that everyone is playing on the ceiling.
I put down the rettuB tunaeP fo ecueD and the sniffuM fo 4 below the eight of roses I played earlier, which causes the Tastiness Alliance to form. Below the Tastiness Alliance I play the Nine of Hares, which melds to form a Tasty Hare. The Tasty Hare advances southward by 2 card-heights.
I add the srialcE fo 4 and sniffuM fo 6 to my bastion, in addition to covering it with more peanut butter. A heron I played in the future emerges from L-space and takes up a defensive position inside the bastion. The IID creates a Transmutation Card and a pile of Chorley Cakes, so I use the Transmutation Card on the Chorley Cakes to turn them into pies (strawberry filling w/ stinky cheese and ball bearings) and choklit, which I place behind the bastion in case of trouble.
Oh yes, and the heron uses some of the choklit and pies to make a giant sign just to annoy everyone. The sign says:
YOU JUST LOST THE GAME!
Since no one else seems to be here, I will just have to get this thread back on recent comments.
I play the card noitalfnI, which allows the playing of cards with numeric values of over 10 or suits/random objects as names. This allows me to play the sniffuM fo 85, srialcE fo ekaC yelrohC, and gsipegdeH fo neetnevelE to create a Double Reverse Pickle Bastion on the east side of the board to store my wung points in.
Cat’s Eye! Jakob Wonkychair! Starr! Cello-Playing Mathematician! Cromwell! Errata! Rosebud2! Koppar! Optimatum! Alice! Zinnober 9!
What?
Well, you’re still active, but everyone else has disappeared. GET BACK HERE
Reporting back for duty, sah! Been a busy week, sah! I will now take my turn, sah!
I glue a 907 of Eclairs to the board diagonally across from my Peanut Butter. I nestle the 1 of Roses in between the two, and a barrier of fire and ice springs up, forming a tiny vacuum above my playing section.
I believe you’d better reference the inversion of the Predictability Forcefield as occurred in post 73.
Sorry, I missed that.
I glue a srialcE fo 709 to the board diagonally across from my Peanut Butter. I nestle the sesoR fo 1 in between the two and a barrier of fire and ice springs up, forming a tiny vacuum above my playing section.
I utilize the Infinite Improbability Drive to play a hitherto nonexistent 12 of Peanut Butter, which makes the board sticky. Incredibly sticky. So sticky, in fact, that all some jelly has to be ordered up from the H&H to make the board more delicious.
The game board becomes so delicious as a result that the Archangel of Deliciousness gives it ens personal blessing, and decides to watch over it as its guardian angel. Any person wishing to play a food card must now carefully consider whether or not it would disturb the deliciousness in order not to invoke the wrath of the Archangel of Deliciousness.
As I mentioned to JW, see comment 73.
I didn’t think the 12 of Peanut Butter was precisely normal, though, since the number cards only go up to 10.
In my experience, there are much stranger cards than a 12 of Peanut Butter. I’ll allow it this time.
I play a sekaC yelrohC fo 31, an rettuB tunaeP fo thgiE and an sniffuM fo rialcE, which stick together to form a Peanut Butter Chorley Eclair Pie of Deliciousness, nicely complimenting the PB&J board. The pie flings itself around the room, leaving a trail of pastry fragments, until it crashes into the IID and explodes.
*bumps thread*
(I was hitting the random thread button over and over when I found how to do this. Press play.)
Ë™ÇÊŒoqÉ Êžuıן Çɥʇ ÇÇs Ë™sıɥʇ Çʞıן uÊop-Çpısdn ƃuÄ±Ê‡Ä±É¹Ê Ê‡É¹Éʇs ʇsnɯ ÇuoʎɹÇÊŒÇ ‘ƃuıןıÇÉ” Çɥʇ uo ƃuıʎÉןd sı ÇuoʎɹÇÊŒÇ sÉ
[Link to outside site snipped. But you can create upside-down text right here on MuseBlog by using the command <upsidedown>, and stop it using </upsidedown>. –Admin.]
SFTTP.
Just saying, but everyone still has to write the card names backward.
osʃɐ ʇI 'ǝʃqɐʇɔıpǝ➝ ʎɐ⠽ ǝɯɐƃ ǝɥʇ ƃuıʞɐɯ 'pʃǝıɟǝɔɹoɟ ǝʃqɐʇɔıpǝɹԀ ǝɥʇ ɟo uoısɹǝʌuı ǝɥʇ sʇɹǝʌǝɹ sıɥ⊥ ˙ᄅㄣ =6X9 sǝʞɐɯ ɥɔıɥʍ '9 oɟ ɔɥoɹǝʃʎ ɔɐʞǝs ǝɥʇ puɐ '6 oɟ ɔɥoɹʃǝʎ ɔɐʞǝs ǝɥʇ ʎɐ⠽ I takes us off the ceiling.
So now we do not have to write backwards and upside-down?
˙ʇɔǝɹɹoɔ sı ʇɐɥ⊥
˙ʇou ʎʃʇuǝɹ𥃝ɐ 'Ɛ8 ʇsod ɟo s∀
Deal me in, please. I wanna play. Be warned that this computer is old and if I get too funky with the fonts I can’t read anything. Though it seems like the upside down text is finally showing.
You don’t need to be dealed in, you were already here. Paker is a bit flexible like that. And we don’t need to use upside down text anymore.
OK! I take a Magic Marker to a Jack of Chorley Cakes to make a Stack of Drakes. I now have a hoard of dragons at my command. They fly around the board flaming other peoples’ cards. The PB&J board and the remains of the Chorley Eclair Pie of Deliciousness are now burnt. A few stay behind to guard my treasure hoard of however many points I have.
Unless you have Wung points from something else, your total # of points is the 10 you got when you joined.
There’s no other way to get wung points, and I reset all point counts when I started the game.
So it’s just ten then. Better than nothing. *hopeful grin*
Can I play in the next game?
You can actually step in any time.
You can play in this game.
How do I play?
Just read the rules, read people’s posts, and learn from observation.
*bumps thread*
Exactly how does the Predictability Forcefield limit the IID? Because the IID makes uncommon things common, they aren’t exactly unpredictable, so…
Cake! People, this thread needs reviving again…
*sighs*
Paker, please?
I think we should try Desktop Slalom again as well. That was fun.
The Rules, as described by Paul:
1) Competitors may choose their own potato. Its size must be within sensible limts. Nothing big enough to make an entire bag of chips. No, English chips.
2) Skis may be made of any conventional material, and lubricated likewise. There’s usually no point in using anything more sophisiticated than lollipop sticks, but if you want to try brushed copper or turkey bones, go ahead. By the itme you’ve applied a bit of graphite, they’ll probably perform about the same.
3) No direct physical contact with the potato or the skis is permitted. You may guide your potato through the slalom course with a fan, water jets, small projectiles, laser impactors, or telekinesis, provided you can convince all other contestants that it exists. The alternative approach is to install a microcontroller and pre-program direction changes. You could even try a mechanical program, based on something like a Jacquard loom, but the mechanism must be small enough to fit inside the potato, which you are allowed to hollow out for the purpose.
4) Each potato is allowed three attempts to complete the course. The fastest potato to finish without hitting any of the obstacles wins.
5) I have absolutely no idea how to play Desktop Slalom on a blog, or how to moderate it. You’ll have to work that out for yourselves. I’m off the Hare and Hedgepig for a cream soda.
Have fun!
If you didn’t figure it out, it’s basically an obstacle race with modified potatoes. You customize a potato with whatever you can think of, set it on the starting line, and see how quickly it can make it around all the obstacles to the finish line.
That game sounds awesome! Oh man, I need a smaller potato.
Man I haven’t played Paker in ages. Mostly because I lost track of which thread it was played on.
Well then, maybe you could play this time.
Let’s start gathering people to play Paker. Post if you want to play.
I am playing.
I’m .playing
I’ll play, but I don’t quite get it. However, I have a feeling that this is the type of game you never really get….
I’m Grand Bailiffing. I’ll participate in Desktop Slalom too, if we want to start a competition of that.
We have enough players, so let’s start.
Since everybody else seems to be hiding, I go first. I play the 3 of Hedgepigs, the 8 of Peanut Butter, and the 4 of Chorley Cakes. The Hedgepig stacks the Chorley Cakes at the south side of the board and sticks them together with Peanut Butter, creating a Bakery Bastion.
I’ll go next.
I play a King of Muffins and combine it with the Queen of Peanut Butter to make Buttery Muffins. Which I then throw at the other players for no reason.
I play the Knave of Herons and the Ace of Hares. My hedgepig catches the muffins and gives them to the herons and hares, giving me a Comestibles Brigade.
Please keep all moves to first-level comments, not replies.
Sorry, that was an accident.
I’ll play!
I play the Ace, 2, 3, and 4 of Roses, creating a large, thorny bush which protects a corner of the board.
I play the 2 of Peanut Butter, 3 of Éclairs, and 5 of Chorley Cakes, creating a minor Circle of Prime Comestibles.
What type of board are we using? Are there any special paradigms?
@99: It seems to be an ordinary board without special paradigms.
I place the Four of Eclairs and Two of Muffins inside my Bakery Bastion, which combine to form the Forty-Two of Pastries. The Forty-Two of Pastries generates a (fortunately) Finite Improbability Generator, which places a Wung Bomb in the center of the board. (After five people take their turns it will explode and shower 5 Wung Points upon everybody.)
I play the Deuce of Herons along with the Knave of Roses. The Herons borrow Optimatum’s Bakery Bastion and bake the Roses into a fleur-de-lis, and the Herons transform themselves into Eclairs. I now take the cards I now have, Deuce of Eclairs and a fleur-de-lis, and create the French Quarter. Anybody wishing to play in that area must provide a French translation of their move.
I instigate an emergency Babelfish Exclusion to nullify the French translation rule.
I distribute Babelfish and dictionaries to all players, allowing everyone to post in any languages they feel like posting in as long as they include an English translation.
Uh… I’m really confused. Can I just put any card down?
Addled by study
Acadec is melting mind
Leap into Paker
Play Five of Eclairs
Couple with Shinto Special
Haiku bonuses
Build on eclair as
Center of a new bastion
Triangle structure
Bara brith at apex
Six and Nine of Hares defend
Isoceles Blip
First line of last poem
Doesn’t have five syllables
But one too many
My apologies.
Will pay Wung Fine; two points to
Center of table.
I play the Ace of Peanutbutter with the 2 of Hedgepigs which makes hedge pigs covered in peanutbutter attack other players.
Behind the thorny rosebush, I begin a House-Style Bastion by leaning the 3 of Hedgepigs against the 4 of Chorley Cakes, thus creating a Nomming Hedgepig base. House-Style Bastions have a 50% chance of toppling each turn, in which case the bastion would become a less-powerful regular bastion. *flips coin* The Nomming Hedgepig remains standing as the Wung Bomb explodes and I deftly catch the falling Wung Points.
Wung Bomb gives everyone five Wung points.
I play a Chorley Cake along with a Nonexistent Card, creating The Cake Is A Lie! and giving everyone an Aperture Science Handheld Portal Placement Device. I also play the Eight and Nine of Roses, forming a Rose Tower. At the top of the Rose Tower I place a pile of Eclairs besides a hole in the floor, and I place a portal at the bottom of the tower below the hole.
My Hedgepigs return to my corner with 5 wung points. They stay to guard.
I am delighted that Paker is still played in this establishment. I have been away too long. Allow me to introduce a few radical elements, to see if we can get the game fizzing.
First, I invoke Murdoch’s Rule to slide myself into the game. That starts me with only 4 wung points, but watch :
4, 5, 6 and queen of herons, aligned on the cardinals. The rose portal is now locked.
Now, a variation on Freemans’ Gambit – King of Hedgepigs, four of chorley cakes, six and seven of muffins. This forms a minor concourse. Now I declare Pellegrino, and invert the concourse about its prime focus, producing a clamshell over the French Quarter. There is now an implied gateway into the heart of the Rose Tower.
I must now forfeit two turns, but that gateway is going to be very difficult to assault, or to close.
I’ll give you a clue – think of POSOC’s bara brith as an inverted, homogenised chorley cake. I’ll say no more. Play on!
Awesome. We get to play with a GAPA.
Hmmm…
I play the Nine of Chorley Cakes, the Eight of Eclairs, and the Queen of Muffins by the gateway into the Rose Tower. Another Nonexistent Card turns them into antimatter, forming a Pastry Vortex blocking the gate.
I play the Knave of Herons, and using it and my Aperture Science Handheld Portal Placement Device, fling POSOC’s bara brith into the Pastry Vortex. Its presence there begins to destabilize the Vortex, and I predict that it is slowly expanding into a much more powerful and unpredictable Pastry Maelstrom.
((Oh no, not another vortex…))
I’m going to advance my Shinto/Five of Eclairs stack to the apex rather than the center, thus depriving the stolen bara brith of its momentum. The maelstrom now has to deal with several ounces of dense, inert Welsh pastry. It’s possible it could revert to the lower-energy state of Vacuum, but the likely outcome is that it will subside into a custard. Passage to the gateway will be difficult until it’s cleared, but it will be a passive obstacle rather than an active one.
Turning my attention to my own bastion, I’m going to play a Knave of Eclairs (a man on a chaise lounge in an attitude of repose, a chocolate-brown hat resting on a nightstand beside him, a sword-cane also leaning against the nightstand) and funnel it through the Shinto stack. With Ace and Deuce of roses placed laterally, we have a Nakamura Set congruent with the apex.
I play the 4 of Chorley cakes inside the clamshell over the French Quarter. The portal to the Rose Tower takes it, and produces the 100 Year’s War, simaltaneously occuring in the Rose Tower and the French Quarter. As the 4 of Chorley cakes has been lost in battle, but is still there, the Pastry maelstrom spreads and absorbs it, thus causing the bara brith to be dissolved.
Hm. There seems to be a lot of pastry-dissolving going on around here. I lay down a card from the private Grand Bailiff collection: the 409 of Pinelemons. It creates a protective barrier between the board and the pastries to prevent the former from being ruined.
Although it was probably going to turn into custard, the instability of the Pastry Maelstrom causes it to split into two more stable Pastry Vortices. I play the Queen of Muffins, which draws one of the Pastry Vortices away to the north of the French Quarter, leaving the other blocking the gateway. I also play the King and Ace of Roses outside the Rose Tower, which grow into a Thorned Bastion.
I add another base to my House-Style Bastion consisting of the King of Muffins and the Queen of Peanut Butter, which is the Very Tasty Muffin Base. I place a Six of Roses atop the peaks of the two bases, forming the Satisfied Hedgepig Stack. On the turn a Stack is created, the chance of toppling is lowered to 33.. and it doesn/t.
Oh, you’re playing right into POSOC’s hands. None of this is going to seriously challenge a congruent Nakamura Set with a clearly defined back. You need to go all out with an attack on the apex. Look :
Nine of hedgepigs, nine of Chorley Cakes, nine of Roses, with plain blue backs, aligned on the intercardinals. Double inversion about the centroid, and spark it to consolidate. Now harness the vortices. Six of peanut butter. Don’t want to overshoot. 7, 8, 9, 10 of Hedgepigs, right across the double vortex transept, using the Satisfied Hedgepig Stack as a virtual pivot. Lock it in with Jack of Roses. That’s allowed by Janacek’s Rule.
Now look at the board in profile. See? It’s all straining the congruence, and the supposedly unassailable apex is starting to lose its identity. Now go in hard with muffins, someone. Vector any emergency counterattacks straight at my French Quarter clamshell. It can take it.
I play the Nine, Seven, and Knave of Muffins alongside the French Quarter, and play the Two of Hares, forming a Muffin Troop. The Muffins use portals to fling themselves at POSOC’s bastion, knocking it over. I play the Six of Roses and the Three and Five of Herons, and the herons use the rose bushes to anchor the bastion to the board.
This promises to be a more overtly aggressive game than the last one. I can’t rely on slowly building my strength in something like a Concretion for the first few rounds. I’ll have to adopt a more fluid philosophy to survive.
With that in mind, I’ll reassert the apical identity with a Furlined Jack of Peanut Butter, added to the Shinto Stack. It’s a notoriously individualistic card, especially in its more predatory Furlined aspect, but it should serve my purposes well here. The Hares at the other two points of the bastion are faltering anyway, so I’ll cut them loose and use the energy surplus to rotate the Ace and Deuce of Roses forty-five degrees, perpendicular to the baize. This makes them virtual points of the triangle, so philosophically at least, the apex is still an apex and continues to support the Nakamura Set.
Oh no! This calls for desperate measures!
I play the Three of Hares and Seven of Chorley Cakes nearby, and have my FIG heat up the Chorley Cake, causing the moisture in it to evaporate. The hare piles up the dry cake under the Ace of Roses, and, using it as fuel, lights a fire. The fire consumes the roses, destabilizing the triangle.
Seeing an opportunity and tossing aside the rules regarding Grand Bailiffry, I throw a royal flush of Eclairs on top of the ace of Peanut Butter and slide the whole stack towards the wavering triangle. And… yes! It combines just outside the French Quarter, and the easternmost vortex twists the whole monstrosity into a tesseract. This means, of course, that we’ll now have an extra dimension on which to play cards–but be careful, I’m not sure how long that ace will hold. I honestly don’t know what would happen to any cards played on the tesseract if that dimension collapses.
As the Ace and Deuce burn, I quickly play a King of Roses (a man tied to a stake by thorny brambles, a tattooed crown on his bald head, sad ruby-colored eyes staring at the viewer) and invoke the Sympathy Principle. It also ignites, and I funnel it through the Shinto Stack, directly toward the implied gateway. The residual energy from the disintegrating apex gives it enough potency to overshoot the Pastry Vortex and pass through the gateway to the Rose Tower, where the Sympathy Principle sets fire to the Thorned Bastion.
Now for the housekeeping issues. The Nakamura Set is no longer backed by a congruent triangle, virtual or real, and it’s basically been stripped down to an unadorned Shinto Stack backed up by a Jack of Peanut Butter and Knave of Eclairs. I think I’ll set both Knave and Jack rotating anticlockwise and use the lateral tension to draw a slice of madeira cake into the Stack. This converts the Nakamura Set into a third-order Jardim Construct.
I join the game (if I may) by simply playing a four of Roses in place of the now combusted Ace.
You may indeed join. Here are your ten wung points–and you may be able to catch another group of five from the Wung Bomb that exploded a short while ago. I see a few teetering around the rafters.
I play the Three of Chorley Cakes, which draws the Pastry Vortex over to the Jardim Construct, where it consumes the Eclairs and madeira cake, causing the construct to collapse. I also play the Eight of Peanut Butter, smothering the fire in the Thorned Bastion. However, I get there too late, so it has already begun to disintegrate into ash. Before it can collapse, I mix it with more Peanut Butter, creating a Sticky Barricade, and I plant more roses on top.
As the Jardim Construct collapses, I lock the Knave and Jack into a stable orbit around the Vortex and carefully draw out the Shinto Special with a Norwegian Cascade, consisting of Six, Seven and Eight of Eclairs in decreasing order. I then play a Knave of Hares on the Tesseractical surface, perpendicular to and overlapping the Jack of Peanut Butter, creating the well-known Disreputable Duo. Lastly, I reconfigure the Shinto Stack with a Queen of Hares, which has the added bonus of binding the Pastry Vortex to my Western cardinal point.
Now for the offensive. The mobile Knave of Hares passes through the Sticky Barricade with little trouble, under the Briar Patch Rule. I then turn its counterpart, the Jack of Peanut Butter, on its edge, reflecting the Knave through the fifth dimension and into the heart of the Rose Tower. Its influence allows me to place a slice of red velvet cake over the lower portal, sealing and annulling it. I then fuse the Knave with the now-unconnected portal and link it to the tame vortex, via the Norwegian Cascade and the Queen of Hares.
I love it when a game hots up. I shall not interfere much at this stage, because now we’ve moved into 4 dimensions, any strong move could introduce instability. I shall simply apply a squeeze of lemon juice to the vertices of the tesseract, and warn everyone to watch Oxlin. That simple four of roses could quickly become a deviant focus.
Slightly overwhelmed at all the burning and dimensional transformations, I barricade my French Quarter with the Ace and 4 of Hedgepigs , creating a 4 dimensional spiny army around a simpler 3 dimensional interior. This causes the portal in the tower of Roses to collapse, as a 4 dimensional portal cannot connect to a 3 dimensional area, according to Guilford’s Law. As my French Quarter is barricaded, and essentially disconnected, I quickly implant the Jack of Herons, which nationalizes the French Quarter into a separate board. This means that it may interact with all the chaos around it, but any cards or actions attempting to enter it will be thoroughly inspected for any chaos causing powers. (And it is an infalliable inspection, let me tell you.)
Horrified at the events since I last played, I open a new portal to the ceiling and play a Transmutation Card on my eclairs, turning them into pies. I fling them into the portal, causing a rain of pies, and turn on my FIG which continuously creates pies near the ceiling. The continuous rain of pies makes the Pastry Vortexes expand, and although I seal the one in the center of the board with a Comestible Pentagram the other expands and consumes the Shinto Special.
I don’t make any moves, but drop the Seven of Roses on the floor. It lands below the French Quarter.
A few things I forgot to do before:
I play The Cake Is A Lie on the red velvet cake, causing a gigantic explosion (The Cake Is A Lie is antimatter). I direct the explosion through the portal, where it destroys my Sticky Barricade. I replace the Sticky Barricade with another Thorned Bastion by planting the King and Ace of Roses along with the Three of Muffins to make it stronger: now anything trying to cross it gets tangled in the thorns until I release it.
I also decide to test a theory I had by sending the Eight of Hedgepigs through the vortex in the middle of the board, and, confirming the theory, it comes out the other vortex (they were both part of the Pastry Maelstrom so they act as wormholes). However, since the second vortex is larger, the hedgepig comes out of it three times larger than normal. It wanders across the French Quarter, accidentally squashing a few cards, and eats one of the raining pies. Unfortunately, it was a Peanut Butter and Jalapeno pie, so a fireball comes out of the hedgepig’s mouth and hits the tesseract, moving the cards inside it into other dimensions.
A clockwise rotation by the Knave of Eclairs diverts the Shinto Special safely around the tame vortex and slings it down the Norwegian Cascade, which is still connected to the Knave of Hares’s integral portal.
The Special’s influence reconfigures the FIG, causing it to produce anpan (a Japanese dessert) rather than pies, and at a vastly decelerated rate (about four per round). The Knave survives the fireball-induced dimensional shift because it’s still anchored by the Jack of Peanut Butter. It seizes eight of Optimatum’s wung points, inverts through its own portal, and rides the metaphysical shockwave of the cake explosion back to its original position near the Jack.
The vortex is becoming a liability; I play Forqueray’s Distended Scissor (four and five of herons) to disconnect it from my cardinal point and drop it into the rapidly destabilizing tesseract.
Worried about the giant Hedgepig, I play the 5 of Herons on the corner of my French Quarter. They enter the larger maelstrom, and emerge from the smaller one, smaller of course. However, I quickly play the Deuce of Muffins, and the Herons quickly multiply by eating the (to them) enormous muffin. The smaller vortex has wandered over to this corner again, and I play a Hackworth Path allowing the Herons to re-enter and come out an enormous army of Herons. They attack the giant hedgepig, reducing it to cardboard and Yorkshire pudding, the former being absorbed into the fireball, building a veritable stationary bonfire near the Rose Tower. The latter empties into the tesseract, where they float around, causing a time differential from the rest of the board, all events appear to happen twice as fast due to the Patisserie Effect (because when you’re eating a pastry, no matter how slow you go, you’re always the first to finish.) During all this time, quantum fluctuations in my French Quarter have produced a microcivilization that a player cannot mess with without being violently ejected from the game due to the layer of brie that has built up below the civilization.
I’m getting really nervous about Oxlin’s Seven of Roses. Its current postion on the floor is creating an implied fifth dimension. I can’t quite work out how it’s going to interact with a destabilising tesseract. My maths isn’t up to it. I have a horrible suspicion that we’re looking at a Virtual Notional Paradox, and if someone manages to invert it around, say, a concretion of hares, it could reconfigure the entire board. Oxlin’s really playing with fire here.
OK, I’m playing safe. Ten of hedgepigs.
Looking down, I notice that the Golden Wung has somehow disappeared. “Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear me,” I quote. I assume it’s in one of the other dimensions, but I have no idea which one–or ones, for that matter. I’m afraid this round won’t end until it reappears in our familiar dimensions and stays there.
In the meantime, I lay down the two, four, six, and eight of Herons around the seven of Roses in an effort to bring some slight concretion to the ominous implied dimension.
I also mention that anyone who causes pastries to fly about the room must clean them up promptly.
Don’t worry, Piggy, anything that goes off the board disappears due to lack of thought power.
I have my Muffin Troop go through the first vortex, and they appear in the tesseract. While waiting for the vortex to reappear, they borrow a pie cannon from the civilization, and then exit through the vortex. I mount the pie cannon atop my Rose Tower, from which I launch pies at other structures; they knock down POSOC’s Shinto Stack, turning it into a less-powerful Shinto Pile (and sticks the cards together), while others enter the tesseract, forcing it to collapse into the vortex inside it. The final pie hits oxlin’s Seven of Roses, rotating it thirty degrees through the implied dimension, and causing concretion.
I’m going to have to appeal the last bit, as with very few exceptions, concretions can only be constructed with five or more cards from the same suit.
Well then:
As the Seven of Roses rotates through the implied dimension, I play the Two, Three, Five, Seven, and Knave of Roses in a Prime Pentagon around it (Knave counts as eleven), concreting and anchoring it.
I slide a Ace of Hedgpigs under the Rose Tower. It remains there for future use.
I play a reversed King of Roses above Optimatum’s concretion. This provides a link between the Seven and Enc’s French Quarter.
Noes! My carefully constructed French Quarter is under the possibility of chaos! However, thinking quickly, I play a Deuce of Peanut butter inside the linkage. This completely blocks it up, and causes the French Quarter simply to be anchored in place, unable to float around aimlessly.
I do a number of things.
I send a Three of Pies (I used a transmutation card) through one vortex, and it comes out the other gigantic. I have it squash POSOC’s Knave and Jack. While they are distracted, I have the pie reclaim my wung points, which I lock in the Rose Tower, and I use String Theory to place an impenetrable 11-dimensional fence around them.
When I have the Pie return, the vortex’s instability causes it to turn into a Pie Cake. The Pie Cake is sucked into the vortex, fusing the two back into a Maelstrom, but they remain where they are as they are linked through the wormhole effect.
I use my portals to claim a piece of bara brith from the past, which creates a timespin. The timespin sucks POSOC’s Shinto Special into the tesseract. The tesseract has not yet collapsed because I have a pie gun from it, which I return. As the pie gun is now back in the tesseract, it collapses, taking the Shinto Special with it.
The collapse of the tesseract has confused the deck, so I end up playing the Eclair of Herons and Time = Wung Points next. Now, everyone gets a wung point whenever they post.
I put an emergency freeze on the Wung Point economy to prevent anyone from posting incessantly in an effort to become rich.
How about only posts with actual content give Wung Points?
Also:
The deck gives me a Harry Potter card, which turns everything to Harry Potter themes. All cards now have lightning scars.
143-I don’t think that would be a very good idea… content-filled posts can also be incessant.
I quickly expand Forqueray’s Scissor with a muffin and a dollop of clotted cream, invert the cards, and declare null widdershins. The vortices/maelstrom lose their/its connection and disintegrate/s permanently.
Playing a further Seven of Herons converts the Scissor into an Externalist Bastion, surrounding my Knaves and Jack. I curl the Norwegian Cascade up for ease of storage, in a spiral based on the Golden Ratio. Adding a “Not Even Wrong” card creates the Pauli Corollary, which means that the 11-dimensional fence is no longer impenetrable. Finally, a Two and Five of Peanut Butter placed perpendicular to the North cardinal lure the Ace of Hedgepigs that Enceladus set down earlier out from under the Rose Tower. This severely destabilizes said Tower’s foundations, toppling it. Judicious invocation of the Norwegian Cascade allows me to transport all three cards to the entrance to the French Quarter.
Since our cards have met in a combined system/concept, I am now within my rights to petition Enceladus for an Extraterritorial Holdfast, and promptly do so. If he accepts, I will construct a sub-bastion within the French Quarter- inert, of course, to prevent chaos. In return, he will receive all benefits of an alliance with me. The terms can, of course, be negotiated, or he can refuse.
But the Norwegian Cascade was joined with the Shinto Special so it was destroyed too.
Actually, the Shinto Special passed through the Cascade; it wasn’t joined with it at all. The Knave of Hares’s retreat severed all the Special’s connections to my main bastion. It was essentially inert (except for the anpan effect) until its destruction.
Okay then.
I place the two of hedgepigs upon my link, whereby it enters the French Quarter.
I place the 2, 3, 5, 7, and Knave of water around the collapsed economy created by Optimatum’s Time=Wung Points in order to seal it off from the rest of game play. This also has the side-effect of creating a bit of a spot to wade in.
I drop the nine of water on the floor. Since all bodies of water are connected, this becomes a passage from the base of the link to the protection around the collapsed economy.
The link was closed off, it only anchors the French Quarter now.
Well, okay then. From the floor to where the pool of water around Optimatum’s.
Right, then. 4,5,6 of hedgepigs, and King of Hares. It’s unconventional, but it’s another Norwegian Cascade, at least in three dimensions. I’ve aligned it squarely in oppositon to the French Quarter, and in false relation to what’s left of the tesseract. I float the two of Chorley Cakes in the growing lake on the floor, and give it a spin. Now I cast a flutter of muffins and the four of each suit around the lake, and – Crenshaw’s Roulette. I only have to send the Queen of Hares down the cascade, and anything could happen.
Well, you wanted an exciting game.
I play the Knave of Hares near the French Quarter, using that field to set Hares as trump. I then take the eight and nine of Hares and play them away from the rest of the game. They form a Lloyd Gate.
I look around for my original Circle of Prime Comestibles. It appears to have vanished into one of the other dimensions. I send the three and ten of Herons to create an irrigation trench from the lake, causing it to become a river flowing through the Lloyd Gate. Crenshaw’s Roulette remains in place, however, due to King Theodore’s Axiom. The ten of Herons begins a journey down the river.
I press a button on my FIG and a micro-black hole appears in the middle of the board. It absorbs the growing lake and moves over to the French Quarter, where it envelops the Two of Peanut Butter and the Ace of Peanut Butter before vanishing. I play the Nine of Water in the French Quarter, and play the Ace, King, and Knave of Hares, forming a Major Hare Troop, which use the water link to move from the puddle on the floor to the French Quarter. I play the Three of Muffins and the Eight of Peanut Butter, creating a Muffiny Bastion of Comestibles, which my hares enter.
I also move my Wung Points and a Three of Herons to a parallel universe using the water links, and the heron uses a hair dryer to evaporate the nearby water in the parallel universe, removing the link.
I accept the terms of POSOC, as an alliance with a player of the skill and wit of him is a very good ally. In fact, I go so far as to propose a Vassalage of myself, where I help POSOC, and therefore share in the rewards reaped. If he accepts that, then he will have a stable bastion and sub-bastion, and be able to use and play what I create in the game.
I take a small move, and use the freed Ace of Hedgepigs and a 4 of Peanut Butter to create an inverted Pascal’s Drive, which drastically increases the chances of something disruptful entering POSOC’s sub-bastion, and drastically increases the chances of something POSOC wanted to exit to exit his sub-bastion. Essentially, it guarantees that POSOC will be able to fulfill his plans.
I accept! But as it is one in the morning where I am, I will wait till a more reasonable hour to construct my sub-bastion. (My sleep schedule is so caked up right now…)
AM’s Minor Circle of Prime Comestibles reappears, and I play a Five of Muffins and the Four of Peanut Butter on it. I stack the muffins, sticking them together with peanut butter, and our formations create a Prime-Reinforced Muffin Lookout. I place a lazer Thermal Discouragement Beam on it, and play the Knave and Ace of Hares to aim it. This means that anything that gets near the lookout in any dimension is incinerated by the lazer Thermal Discouragement Beam. I also play the Three, Five, Sever, and Nine of Roses around the lookout, forming an Odd Major Thorned Bastion. Since my cards have formed a structure with AM’s, I also ask him to form a Extraterritorial Holdfast with me.
I play an Eight and Nine of Hares (plain blue back) within the brie-backed French Quarter, backing it up with a Furlined Deuce of Roses (aka the Lipwigzer). This forms a Noosphere Bastion, in which I invest all ten of my starter wung points. I send four of them to the cardinal points to reinforce the Noosphere, leaving six in the center, and bind the free end of the Norwegian Cascade to the inverted Pascal’s Drive at the east cardinal.
Enceladus, don’t you mean “drastically decreases the chances of something disruptful entering”? Also, do you think you could summarize your current bastion structure for me?
Yes, I do mean decreases. I don’t know why or how it came out increases.
My French Quarter is a complex shape. It has a 3 dimensional interior, surrounded by a highest dimensional barrier of Hedgepigs that prevent anything undesirable from slipping in through a higher dimension. The base of it is coated in sedimentary brie, and on small parts a microcivilization has been formed. However, you may probably do what you wish, as the microcivilization is rather small, and the avaliable brie area is large.
You have fifteen wung points, where are the other five?
I’m joining. Sorry I’ve been away so long, I’ve been following the game but forgetting to post.
I begin by stacking my 10 Wung Points in a pyramid in an empty patch. I play the Three of Peanut Butter to help stick them together, and the Seven of Hedgepigs to back it up. This invokes the Lucky Numbers clause, which spins my pyramid around nine times, inverts it, and sends a cloud of four-leaf clovers across the board, carrying a black cat.
Meanwhile, the Lloyd’s Gate flashes purple and sends the river flowing through my field. I breathe a sigh of relief as it flows around the point of my pyramid, leaving my Wung Points dry and not floating across the board.
The black cat meows indignantly as it is thrown into another dimension. The four-leaf clovers immediately crowd around the small vortex, preventing entry or departure.
Will you form an allegiance with me?
I see no reason not to. Certainly!
I play the Three, Ace, and Knave of Hares and use my Thermal Discouragement Beam to incinerate part of the French Quater”s boarder, allowing my Hare Troop to slip inside and annex part of the French Quarter to the rest of the board, so the only part hat is still the French Quarter is the small area around POSOC’s Noosphere Bastion. Playing the Five, Seven, and Three and One Half of Eclairs and a Transmutation Card, I use the brie to make an impenetrable Cheesecake Bastion around the French Quarter, I construct another Muffin Lookout and place a second Thermal Discouragement Beam on it, with the Three of Herons to aim it at anything trying to escape the French Quarter. I also play the Three and Seven of Water, creating a Luck Moat around the French Quarter, which teleports (using the connected water function) anything that comes into it back inside.]
I also play a Reverse Wung Bomb, which absorbs three of POSOC’s and three of Enceladus’s Wung Points, permanently removing them from play.
Finally, I play the Silver Eclair of Forty Two, which gives the board depth so there can be holes/terrain/whatever in it without it coming out the bottom, so I set a Rose of Hedgepigs (a hedgepig made out of a rose hedge) digging a Peanut Butter Mine.
SFTDP.
I play the Necromancy card, which causes any cards that are destroyed to come back as zombies, which do not have sides but randomly attack whatever comes near. (If a zombie is destroyed it doesn’t come back.)
What if the cards aren’t played in the “animate” style but rather as more abstract components of hands?
Then nothing happens.
I entered play after the Wung Bomb; the only wung points I have are the standard ten.
Actually, eight, as I paid the Wung Tax earlier in the game.
Yes, but others entered after it too and still managed to get some that had been floating around.
Wait, I think I stole eight of your wung points at one point… drat, I’ll just assume the Reverse Wung Bomb worked, lose three, and assume I’ve got thirteen now.
You stole them, but I stole them back.
I see, I missed that. Which leaves me with… two. Which means that at least three of those at my cardinal points are virtual ones.
Alarmed by the annexation of the French Quarter, I play a King of Hedgepigs (rotund man in a kilt waving an improbably spiky sword) on the inverted Pascal’s Drive, thoroughly reinforcing its defense. I judiciously place several small iced buns along the joins in the Norwegian Cascade, thus declaring my intent for a Deadman Switch. If anything unwanted breaches the Norwegian Cascade, it will immediately be annulled and disconnected to prevent both the Noosphere and Externalist bastions from falling.
And I have to go to the bank now. Back soon.
Continuing my turn, I place a small slice of Camembert in the center of the Noosphere. Under the Sympathy Principle, it extracts the portion of Brie that the microcivilization rests on and brings it into the bastion, unhindered by the inverted Pascal’s Drive. I further play a Six of Roses at the Down cardinal and a Six of Herons at the Up cardinal, extending the Noosphere Bastion’s protection into three dimensions.
Now to open the attack. I mobilize one of my free wung points, bind it on the Deuce of Herons (thus crystallizing it), and skim it into the path of the Thermal Discouragement Beam. The Beam is redirected into the Luck Moat, splits, and emerges at various random points within the Cheesecake Bastion. Simultaneously, I use the torque from the Six of Herons to pull down Paul’s abandoned Clamshell and add a Jack of Roses, reconfiguring it into a defensive concourse around the Noosphere.
Paul, behold the monster you’ve created. This is really strong play from all sides.
Right, I’m opening up another front. Three of hares, six of chorley cakes, eight of roses, Queen of Hedgepigs, placed on the cardinal points. I’m using my four wung points to anchor them, and now I perform a retrograde slide with a flush of herons into the noosphere, establishing a Carter Plane above the board. This initially displays a reflected analogue of all current board features. It is now virtually impossible to tell which is the real board, and which is the analogue. ( I use “above” to estimate the projected position of the analogue in 3 dimensional space. “Below”, “alongside” or “intersecting” are equally valid).
To maintain some advantage, I introduce the four of Eclairs as a
Tenuous Arbiter, over which I mantain full control by Right of Establishment.. But it’s not fully reliable, so even I may end up addressing the analogue in a future ploy. It’s also assailable. But that’s about all I can do in this move.
I play a modified The Cake Is A Lie, destroying POSOC’s iced buns. I also turn up the power of the Thermal Discouragement Beam, melting the Wung Point and the Deuce of Herons together. The Thermal Discouragement Beam’s heat has cooked the Cheesecake Bastion, making it stronger, and I place some raspberries and whipped cream on top to protect it from similar incidents. The deliciousness of the bastion summons the Archangel of Deliciousness (see a few games ago) and anybody who does anything to upset the deliciousness gets their cards vaporized. I play the Ace, Two, Three, Four, and Cosign of Math, creating a downwards tesseractial spiral around my Muffin Lookout, so anything that nears it without my permission (or AM’s, if he comes back) is sucked into the Peanut Butter Mines and fossilized. I also play the Seventy-eight of Chorley Cakes and the Three of Eclairs on the Muffin Lookout, further reinforcing it into a Pastry Spire of Deliciousness, and to prevent the deliciousness from being ruined I play the Nine of Choklit, covering it in a shell of choklit.
Can I join? I just have one question: are there rules for what combinations of cards become? (For instance, may a Four of Hedgepigs combined with a Four of Eclairs not become, say, a mess ninja?)
Rules?
In theory, there are several thousand rules. In practice, these are the only rules that people don’t make up on the spot:
1. Be a good sport.
a. Allow others to react to what you do (e.g., don’t post something like “I utterly destroy Blogger X’s bastion and irrevocably steal ens wung points.” Give people a chance to defend themselves.
b. You are not invincible.
2. Listen to the High Bailiff.
For knowledge’s sake, I happen to be the Bailiff for this game.
Thanks, but what I meant was can we combine two or more cards and have them turn into whatever we want?
Be creative, but be reasonable.
OK, thanks. Just one more thing. I know people keep talking about how many wung points they have, but how do you use them?
Good question.
Am I to assume this means I can join the game?
Anyone can join or leave at any time.
May I also join…? *smiles angellicly*
I simply set down another iced bun, larger this time, and invoke the Strong Deadman’s Switch, which will redirect the Cascade’s power laterally and violently eject anyone or -thing trying to invade or damage it. This condition will persist for the duration of the round after the iced bun is destroyed.
Now: I’m playing a nine of chorley cakes, a deuce of eclairs, and a Bronze Wung special, thus creating the Babelfish Argument. Since the Archangel of Deliciousness is sustained by faith, and the deliciousness of the H&H’s cuisine proves its existence and removes any possibility of faith, it promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
I next play an Ace of Chorley Cakes and a Ten of Roses (inverted, of course) on the reflected analogue, creating a descending (or ascending, depending on the viewer’s perspective) logarithmic spiral, which intersects a series of parallel dimension sets. It is open to anyone’s use, as there is no bastion surrounding it. This has no counterpart on the original board, but the sympathetic effect creates a virtual focus in the corresponding location. Wise players can put this to good use in constructing inversions and bypasses.
Whoops, forgot about Paul’s Four of Eclairs. I’ll have to pay a Wung Tax of at least two to the Tenuous Arbiter in order to play on the Plane.
I hesitantly reopen the Wung Point economy since, as far as I can tell, time no longer equals Wung Points.
No one’s seen the Golden Wung, have they?
It may be hiding around the highest dimensional walls of my French Quarter- probably afraid of everything that’s going on.
I’m afraid it’s no longer your French Quarter. I did manage to salvage the microcivilization and bring it within my Extraterritorial Holdfast, which Optimatum has been unable to penetrate thus far. The rest of it has been brought within Optimatum’s ambit.
Why? Is it lost?
Yes, it disappeared some days ago into, I believe, one of the nonstandard dimensions on which we’ve been playing.
Hm. I think I can track it down using the ascending/descending logarithmic spiral and the resonance from the Bronze Wung. I’ll have to think about that complex a move, though.
Aghast at the destruction and mauling of my French Quarter, I grab the Five of Hedgepigs, as well as the Nine of Chorley Cakes, which combine to create a rift in time and space, as of Peterford’s Gambit. I throw a Seven of Roses with a Seven of Muffins in, and they arrive back in time, and I am able to control them.
I direct them to when I first created the French Quarter, they grab the Eclairs, which, now I remember, mysteriously vanished. Jumping forwards a few plays, they take a sampling of brie from the bottom of the French Quarter. Finally, they fast forward to post 154, where Optimatum ruthlessly and cruelly destroyed my beloved French Quarter. They take one of the fallen Hedgepig spines. Jumping to before the game even started, in fact, before Piggy posted the rules , they allow the eclairs to create a copy of the French Quarter, the brie, as a sample of the old French Quarter, they extrapolate the entire history of the French Quarter. Finally, the Hedgepig spines evolve and become an entire barricade, highest dimensional as before, but this time rotating and fractal to prevent any unallowed penetration whatsoever. Of course, this cannot happen quickly. It takes a year and a bit, and should be done….
Around now!
*pulls the French Quarter out from behind a couch and places it where people won’t be hypnotized by the spikes and fractals*
Oh, and POSOC? You were thirsty? Here’s your drink.
As Optimatum may be able to tell (this is important to all of you, though) I have developed an actual emotional attachment to my French Quarter. Any attempt to destroy it will be met with a tax of 2 Wung Points due to the Required Sympathy Principle of Cardiff.
I pay a gracious ten Wung Points to Piggy for any possible disruption to the time continuum. I now have zero, which nobody will be able to steal.
Word to the wise: getting upset about chaos in this game will probably lead to remaining upset until the final Wung is played.
That said, I have the brie, the microcivilization and Paul’s abandoned Clamshell. I will do my utmost to reclaim and repopulate the original French Quarter.
Oh, no, it’s not chaos I’m upset about, it’s the CRUEL and HEARTLESS way Optimatum destroyed my French Quarter.
I didn’t destroy it, I annexed part of it to the rest of the board.
It was completely separated from the rest of the board, floating in space. Any attempt to annex it would cause it to crumble under the sudden influx of dimensions.
I annexed it using portals.
I’m afraid I don’t have any use for Wung Points. I’ll toss them into the Norwegian Cascade for retrieval by some future person.
I play the Three of Somethings card, which nullifies the Babelfish Argument by pointing out that it’s nonexistence would mean the H&H’s cuisine wouldn’t be delicious, creating a paradox and recreating it. It decides that POSOC’s iced bun clashes with the deliciousness by being too large, so it shrinks it and makes the Minor Deadman’s Switch. I also play the Eight of Hedgepigs, which digs a tunnel into the French Quarter, so I play the Three and Nine of Roses creating a Rose Embassy. If anyone attacks the embassy in any way they must pay me Three Wung points as a fine because of diplomatic immunity.
The walls are impenetrable, I’m sorry, they are constantly rotating and fractally dimensional, and made of hedgepigs. Any attempt to dig a tunnel results in shredded meat, and no change. Unless that was on my old French Quarter.
Hmmm… Then I send the Seventeen of Hares (they’re still trumps, so the hedgepigs can’t stop it, and the seventeen overrides conventions) through a border station, and it sets up the Rose Embassy.
There is no Seventeen of Hares.
Now, if you ask politely, you may set up a Rose Embassy. I will allow them through the border station first.
(Please note: The French Quarter requests you be civil. Otherwise cake cannot be served.)
The deck got confused, hence the weird suites and odd numbers, so I can play the Seventeen of Hares.
Yes you can. Enc, you’ll have to accept the rude fabrication of the embassy.
Ok, I will. *is still grumbling about how he didn’t ask permission before he sent one in* (And I didn’t say you couldn’t play it, I simply said it didn’t exist. )
You may have the embassy, as your Seventeen of Hares has passed inspection, something that you really should have requested to happen. However, the Rose Embassy, may not perform the following actions under any circumstances:
-Attempt to destroy the Hedgepig barricade
-Attempt to cause disorder
-Make any uninspected imports
-Attempt to control an area greater than that of the Rose Embassy.
Have a nice day. *gives cake*
Recall the corollary to rule 1: You are not invincible.
Quite.
Regardless of the bun’s size, the conditions of the Strong Deadman’s Switch will persist for the duration of this round, as specified. It will, however, disappear when the Golden Wung is found and played.
A Six of Roses and Eight of Herons placed in the modified Clamshell creates the Non-Intervention or Grigori Pact, which shackles the newly recreated Archangel to its own domain (ie, what summoned it, the actual Cheesecake Bastion, not anything inside it).
Now, just for clarification, Opti- are the Cheesecake Bastion, Luck Moat, etc., intended to trap me within what remains of the French Quarter? Or do you also have interests within it?
They were originally, but since the French Quarter has been recreated I’ll just leave them there right now.
Je joue la reine des roses et la reine de lièvres, créant ainsi une alliance royale, qui a rapidement attaquer le barracade de hedgepig épines. Je joue le 6 de beurre d’arachide et le 9 de gâteaux chorely, ce qui crée une bombe désordre, que je jette à la baricade.
(I play the Queen of roses and the Queen of Hares, thus creating a royal alliance, which promptly attack the barracade of hedgepig spines. I play the 6 of peanut butter and the 9 of chorely cakes, which creates a mess bomb, which I throw at the baricade.)
Which barricade? My French Quarter?
Yup. ( Also, sorry, I was hurried, so let me clarify: The peanut butter is slowing down the spines while the royal alliance attacks. I can do that, can’t I? Maybe? *Is a bit unsure*)
It’s impenetrable, so, no. You can’t. Due to the fractaline and higher dimensional nature of the barricade, the peanut butter is rubbed off and distributed incredibly thinly over a wide range.
Darn.
My Royal Alliance and mess bomb explode.
I feel evil.
Thank you, POSOC, for remembering to pay your taxes to the Tenuous Arbiter. I shall absolve you from the following ploy, by playing (if I may) the Nine of Hares on the dying embers of your iced bun, to act as a focal Grinsbeck node. I now perform a reverse cyclic inversion on the Carter Plane, resulting in a Corbutt’s attractor, radiating out into either the analogue or the real board, depending on the Arbiter’s preference. Either way, it exists in the presence of Mikazuki’s Royal Alliance, so it’s recursive. I now have somewhere between 15 and 23 virtual Wung Points, drawn from everyone except POSOC. The exact number should be determined in the next round, when the wungfunction decays to notional stability and erases the Grinsbeck node.
incidentally, I think I caught sight of the Golden Wung, just as my Corbutt’s Attractor locked into being. It was somewhere near the French Quarter. Have you looked under the clamshell? It might be clinging to the bottom.
(I’m very new to this, so please correct me if I do something wrong. Also, if there is a wung tax for creating things on the analogue board, let me know and I’ll pay it.)
I look for the most empty place, which happens to be on the analogue board. I throw down a Four of Eclaires, and a One of Chorely Cakes, which combine to make a relatively tall tower. I then cover it with a Ten of Peanut Butter for solidity and support. I then throw down a Four of Hedgepigs and a Four of Flutes, which combine into four Musical Hedgepig Gaurds, who stand at the cardinal points around my tower prepared to warn me of any intruders as well as fight them.
And I will assist you by concatenating the substructure of your tower into a Slide of Hares.
I combine the King of Hares, the 4 of eclairs, and the 6 of Herons to make a cave. This is near Randomosity’s tower. I support this with the 3, 6, and 9 of peanut butter, which will make anyone approaching stick to the walls. Then I use a 3 of choreley cakes to make a sub-chamber. I then combine the 7 of Hares, the Queen of Herons, the 2 of Hedgepigs, and the 6 of Roses to make a GAPFU( Great Awesome Powerful Fighting Unit) Which will defend my cave and labrotory. (I can do this, right?)
In any case, I’ll continue.
My only way out of the Cheesecake Bastion is the Norwegian Cascade, but I can’t get my wung points through it and into the Externalist Bastion without having them diverted and rematerialized randomly by the Luck Moat, and I can’t divert, invert or evaporate the Luck Moat without being targeted by the sentry on the Pastry Spire of Deliciousness.
So this is where I will focus my attacks. Using the wung-infused Deuce of Herons as a spearhead, I rotate the modified Clamshell ninety degrees through two dimensions, creating a horseshoe-shaped Concourse. I then revoke my eminent domain over it, causing the inverted Pascal’s Drive to propel it into Optimatum’s Pastry Spire. The spearhead punctures the choklit shell, de-wunging itself in the process, and both ends of the Concourse fasten into the downward tesseractical spiral. The torque naturally reconfigures it into a self-perpetuating helical loop with no connection to the Peanut Butter Mines.
With that, I invoke the Weak or Asymmetric Sympathy Principle between Deuce and Three of Herons, allowing my Deuce temporary control over the Thermal Discouragement Beam. A quickly played Six and Seven of Hedgepigs creates Samberg’s Gambit, which fires the Beam directly into the helical loop. Naturally, it is trapped and continues to circulate every 7.5 seconds, increasing in power with every revolution. In about thirty seconds, the loop will contract around the Pastry Spire and utterly destroy it. Even if Opti pulls off a very clever inversion, en will probably only be able to salvage the Three of Herons, and possibly the foundations of the original Muffin Lookout.
((Everyone, I won’t have regular computer access for a while, so please give me a bit to counter any attacks.))
Annoyed at the impeding destruction of my Pastry Spire, I play the Ace of Geeks. The geek fiddles with my portal gun, giving it the ability to place connecting portals in different times. I use it to undo the damage to the Pastry Spire, but the rest of POSOC’s turn still happens (i.e. anything that didn’t actually damage the Pastry Spire). I also play the Six of Herons and the Four of Hares, which combine to form a rotating multi-dimensional Haron field around the Pastry Spire, so anything that enters the Haron field without my permission is vaporized.
Finishing turn (I was in school and the period ended).
I notice the Golden Wung on the rotated clamshell, so I use the Thermal Discouragement Beam to cut the piece it is stuck to off. I then throw it in the Peanut Butter Mines, where it slowly sinks into the peanut butter and through a wormhole, into a parallel universe. As the wung points that Master Baker drew from me are virtual, the real versions of them are still in a (different) parallel universe where they cannot be accessed, and they will not appear here until a gateway is formed to it. To prevent the formation of a gateway I play the Four of Twos, creating a Hitchhiker Seal upon the board, the French Quarter, and the analogue.
SFTTP, but I just remembered that I should mention that the Hedgepig that got shredded in post 163.1 is now a zombie, and is loose somewhere in the French Quarter.
No, it’s not in the French Quarter. The most likely place is on the clamshell.
Recall that you have to pay a Wung Tax to emplace the Hitchhiker Seal on the analogue, or face the Wrath of Paul.
You threw the Golden Wung into another universe? Or the piece of clamshell?
I think the Golden Wung.
I may have to use that ascending/descending logarithmic spiral after all.
I’m pretty sure he threw the Golden Wung into another universe.
If Socky and Enc are correct, I will have to fine Optimatum several dozen Wung Points and punish her in several other ways as well. Handling of the Golden Wung in this manner, especially by a non-bailiff, is not remotely allowed.
Him, Opti is male.
Yeah, that’s what–oh. Hm. I don’t know why I typed “her”. Well, Opti, consider that your first punishment.
Let me repost slightly more clearly.
I notice the Golden Wung on the rotated clamshell, so I use the Thermal Discouragement Beam to cut the piece it is stuck to off. I then throw the piece of clamshell in the Peanut Butter Mines, where it slowly sinks into the peanut butter and through a wormhole, into a parallel universe. As the wung points that Master Baker drew from me are virtual, the real versions of them are still in a (different) parallel universe where they cannot be accessed, and they will not appear here until a gateway is formed to it. To prevent the formation of a gateway I play the Four of Twos, creating a Hitchhiker Seal upon the board, the French Quarter, and the analogue.
I don’t have to pay a Wung Tax because I placed the Hitchhiker Seal upon the normal board, but it’s nature meant that it also existed by inference in other dimensions including the analogue board.
Well, wouldn’t the Golden Wung still be attached to the clamshell in that case?
I detach it.
( Is there any order for the turns? Or can we just play, so long as we don’t go twice in a row?)
I combine a 2 of Peanut butter and a 6 of Water of Herons to make a quicksand vortex, drawing anything coming within 6 feet of it down into the muck and into a dungeon deep under ground. This is somewhat near Enceladus’s French Quarter.
Mikazuki- There’s no particular order as long as you don’t play twice in a row.
I toss a chorley cake into my Pascal’s Drive, increasing the power enough to create a Permissions Paradox and temporarily damp down the Haron Field. The modified clamshell, now Wung-bereft, reflects the Thermal Discouragement Beam around its length and fires it back at the choklit shell, melting it down and blocking the Three of Herons’s line of fire.
The combined propulsion of Beam and Drive redirects the clamshell laterally, hurtling until it runs up against the cheesecake Bastion. I quickly interpose a slice of Casu Marzu, which (being a deeply disgusting food) attracts the attention of the Archangel of Deliciousness long enough for me to concentrate an attack on the other side of the Bastion.
With a Two of Chorley Cakes and an Eight of Peanut Butter, placed in sliding perpendicularity to the Deuce of Roses (Lipwigzer) and within the Norwegian Cascade, I drill through the Cheesecake Bastion. Both cards plunge into the Luck Moat, reappearing at random points within the Noosphere.
Retrieving both of them, I discard and replay the Bronze Wung alongside them, creating a Season of Mists which entraps the enraged Archangel. It undergoes The Fall, which not only creates a Cheesecake Vacuum just outside the Noosphere, but turns the Archangel into its diametric opposite, a Fiend of Revulsion. It now begins destroying the Cheesecake Bastion, but cannot reach anything else due to the still-active Grigori Pact.
Finally, I play a Queen of Roses on the virtual focus beneath the spiral on the analogue. With the addition of a Jack and Deuce of Herons, it forms a Hoffnung-class Canal, or Redirection. The Luck Moat begins to drain into the virtual focus, allowing me a clear path out of Optimatum’s defensive structure. I hurl both wung points, the brie, and the microcivilization down the Norwegian Cascade and into the Externalist Bastion, with Bronze Wung and Deuce of Roses (Lipwigzer) acting as rearguard.
As a capstone, I trigger the Strong Deadman’s Switch (destroying the Cascade) and revoke the Grigori Pact.
Notes:
There is now an unconstrained Fiend of Revulsion* loose on the board, as well as a semimobile Cheesecake Vacuum.
The Luck Moat is pooling around the virtual focus, which may have some unintended effects on both the board and its analogue; for instance, the redirection effect of anything touching it is no longer bound to a single board.
I no longer maintain a presence in the Noosphere Bastion or French Quarter. If anyone can manage to escape the Fiend, en might be able to claim it, along with eight virtual wung points.
This should get interesting…
*For those of you with a more abstract mindset, a self-motivated, primarily destructive and mobile Hand with a pronounced hatred toward comestibles.
((How do clauses/principles work?))
I employ a Thirteen of Moles at the base of my tower, then throw to them a Thirteen of Venom. The Moles and Venom combine into a Poisonous Subterranean Defence Unit (PSDU), which defend against burrowing enemies as well as digging traps and mazes for intruders who attempt a physical approach.
Clauses/principles are “rules,” usually made up on the spot by the player.
Let me review the structure of my remaining bastion (the Externalist). It consists of the Four, Five and Seven of Herons (at the North, South and East cardinals respectively). Also a muffin with a dollop of clotted cream, at the West cardinal, backed up by a “Not Even Wrong” card. Two wung points, a Deuce of Roses (Lipwigzer), a Bronze Wung, and a microcivilization on a brie tectonic plate remain uncommitted within the Bastion.
I expand my quicksand vortex by adding the 8 of Peanut Butter and the Ace of Eclairs to my quicksand pit. Now anyone who comes within 50 feet of it gets sucked in.
50 subjective feet (board-scale), right? Otherwise the entire game, including the players, would be sucked in.
Yeah, I don’t think it would be as fun underground.
I play the Five of Peanut Butter and Three of Eclairs, attracting the Fiend of Revulsion. As it destroys the peanut butter and eclairs, I play the Seven of Eights, using a Reversion Gambit to turn the Fiend into part Archangel of Deliciousness. The revulsion and deliciousness cancel each other out, creating a Being of Food that makes all food stronger.
I send my hares to pick up the Golden Wung, and they bring it to Piggy.
Due to the geologic features now present in the board, a volcanic vent appears under the river, turning it into a hot spring. I play the Ace of Herons, the Two of Hares, the Three of Hedgepigs, the Four of Roses, the Five of Eclairs, the Six of Peanut Butter, the Seven of Chorley Cakes, and the Eight of Muffins. They jump into the hot spring and fuse into a Conglomerate Card. The Conglomerate Card moves to the Pastry Spire, coating it in frosting, preventing the Heron Field from being deactivated or bypassed, and permanently taking control of the Thermal Discouragement Beam so it cannot be redirected.
I play the Three of Roses inside my French Quarter embassy, creating a Rose Garden. I find the King and Queen of Herons wandering in it, so I shoo them out of the embassy. The presence of a King and Queen in the French Quarter causes the beginnings of a revolution in the French Quarter, creating a state of Anarchy until the end of the round, where it will gain a state of Republic. Any cards outside an embassy will now do what ever they wish instead of following their player’s orders until the end of the round. (Note: killing the King and Queen of Herons will not undo the state of Anarchy, and this does not count as trying to destroy the French Quarter since it will remain the French Quarter and the King and Queen were random escaped cards.) In case my embassy is overrun, I play the Nine of Water in it and the Four of Water outside my Pastry Spire, and the connected water acts as a portal without letting anything that is not mine through or letting more dimensions into the French Quarter.
Seriously? Opti, what did I tell you much earlier- I have to approve anything that goes into or out of the French Quarter. You can’t just play something in it. And the King and Queen of Herons aren’t in the French Quarter, to my recollection.
ANYTHING YOU DO IN THE FRENCH QUARTER MUST BE APPROVED BY ME.
Sorry for yelling, but you don’t seem to be listening to my posts. I don’t allow that to happen in the French Quarter. The Three of Roses is known to be a very volatile card, I don’t allow it in.
It’s inside the embassy, which counts as not in the French Quarter as embassies are technically part of whatever country/area/whatever they are for. The King and Queen of Herons were just random cards that showed up.
Ok, so there’s a revolution going on in the embassy, but that’s the only place it is. It cannot affect me. (Unless I decide to mess up your embassy.)
Just a clarification – I meant that the cards I played were in the embassy. The revolution was outside because I threw the King and Queen out of the embassy.
Also, as quoted from POSOC:
“b. You are not invincible.”
I think that explains what I mean well enough, there has to be some way you are vulnerable.
I’m not invincible, you can harm me all you want. My French Quarter is.
You can steal my wung points, put my French Quarter in an unreachable area. Which I think I might do, and remove it from play. It’s causing too much trouble.
Opti: While they are “random,” they’re not random from an out-of-game perspective. Even though you didn’t “play” them, you still played them. As it were.
And Enc, probably the only way to maintain the French Quarter incorrupt would be to remove it from play. No matter how many times you declare something invincible or impossible, someone is going to find a way to bypass it. It’s one of the fundamental underpinnings of Paker. (And probably the only reason I extracted my remaining wung points from the Cheesecake Bastion, due to Opti’s tendency to build “impenetrable” defenses).
((Thank you, POSOC.
Optimatum, I’ve been meaning to ask, is your Thermal Discouragement Beam based on the one featured in Portal 2?
I just realised, that I claimed to play cards of the number thirteen, which doesn’t exist as a card number. Instead of that, I used a combination of cards eight and five to make thirteen.))
I play two Sixes of Catapults and a Five of Catapults, which combine into a 17 Catapult defence.
It has the same name, but it’s just really a powerful laser.
Since the muffin at my west cardinal point is strengthened by the presence of the Food Entity, I bind the remaining wung points to the north and south cardinals. I also play the Deuce of Roses and the Bronze Wung on the east cardinal. These combine with the Seven of Herons already present to create a Halifax Exclusion around my bastion.
I lay down the King, 9, 3, Ace, Jack, and 2 of Peanut Butter and the 4, 6, 7, 9, and Queen of Eclairs in a circle around Enceladus’s French Quarter, about 20 feet away from it (Board scale) that acts as a sort of moat that promptly fills with the quicksand from my Quicksand Vortex. The same principals still apply, although it will now only suck things in that are within 15 feet of it on each side, and 45 miles upward. This does not effect the French Quarter but means that anybody attemping to get to a spot on the other side will be sucked down to an underground dungeon. So, Opti and Enc are sort of trapped.
I play the Two of Bananas and Three of Truth, creating a Banana of Truth. The banana flies around the board and creates a Lie Vacuum, which (for some reason) weakens all cards with the letter “d” in their name.
I invoke Bran’s Assumption, which converts the Deuce of Roses to a Two of Roses. This has no mechanical effect on it other than protecting it from the Banana of Truth.
I next play a Knave of Hedgepigs (a small man almost completely obscured by a large set of bagpipes, with dark, fiery eyes; the back is a charming combination of cerise and ecru, in a diamond checkerboard pattern) on the microcivilization, thus providing them with Steely Britannic Resolve (TM). This clashes a bit with their essential Frenchiness, but under the Entente Subclause of the Articles de l’impérial Lapin, it produces an implied Russian Bear between the north and east cardinals.
The microcivilization begins extending the brie into fortifications surrounding themselves.
I play the Four of Herons under my French Quarter. It lifts and flies up, due to Arnach’s Levitation principle, lifting it far away from Mikazuki’s quicksand. I shudder as I play the nonstandard 3 of Water, which cleanses the French Quarter of Opti’s Rose Embassy, (Since Roses are incompatible with water). POSOC’s subbastion remains, but I then play the Deuce, 3, 4, and 5 of Hares on top of it, to form a concretion around the inverted Pascal’s field, lifting it out of the French Quarter, and onto another part of the board. I wish him farewell, as the French Quarter flies up to the top of a cabinet, where it is an art object, but out of play completely. I can now return to playing offensively.
I play the Ace of Muffins on top of the Banana of Truth, which forms a dormant Banana Muffin, removing the Lie Vacuum. The Banana Muffin wanders over to the Thermal Discouragement beam, and due to the density of the Banana Muffin, it blocks it. Playing the 7, 8, 9, 10, and Knave of Roses, I strengthen the blocking of it with a concretion of Roses. Due to the Sympathy principle, the Roses are too pretty to destroy, and they form a complete boundary around the Thermal Discouragement beam, except for one small hole aimed right at Opti’s Being of Food. Unless Opti can perform a brilliant, and I mean very brilliant, trans- temporal conglomeration of concretions (Which the best players can barely manage on a great day), he’ll only be able to salvage the Fiend of Revulsion part.
*is not playing to win, is playing for revenge. REVENGE! REVENGE ON ALL!* Ahem.
You can’t do anything to the embassy. You can move the structure to the main board, but you can’t cleanse the board of it.
I meant that I cleansed the French Quarter. It still exists.
You said you cleansed the French Quarter of the embassy. You never said that meant it was moved elsewhere.
Sorry I wasn’t clear.
Erm, how did it get around my quicksand?
It went under it.
((By the way, I forgot to say that my catapults are on wheels.))
With the Lie Vacuum neutralised, I play a Six and Eight of Robots, and a Six and Eight of Dimensional Warp, which combine with the robots to create fourteen Interdimensional Robots, which can move themselves and other members of my defence (such as catapults) between dimensions. They can also fight on their own if need be. I also play four Tens, one Six, and one Ace of Greek Fire, which create forty-seven pots of Greek Fire for ammunition of catapults, hidden in locations known only to the Interdimensional Robots.
I play the Six of Chandeliers on top of the Thermal Discouragement Beam, and it turns into a ghost and flies through the barrier to take up a defensive position. I play the Queen of Peanut Butter on the Banana Muffin, turning it into a Peanut Banana Muffin of Truth, and weakening all cards with the letter “c” in their name (because the cake is a lie). The Peanut Banana Muffin of Truth does not block the Thermal Discouragement Beam because it is not false, and I send out my Hedgepigs to replant the roses around my bastion, creating a Pretty Rose Hedge Bastion which cannot be attacked due to its prettiness. The Peanut Banana Muffin of Truth boosts the strength of my muffins in the Pastry Spire due to the Comparative Muffin Congruency Principle, and the additional power from the Being of Food allows me to form a freezing ice cream shell around it.
The French Quarter’s removal from the game creates a vortex in each body of water, trapping anything currently in it.
I attacked the Being of Food, it’s back to the Fiend of Revulsion
No it isn’t. Not only is it not my Being of Food (it’s neutral), it was never actually attacked. You created a hole in your barricade pointing at it, but the Thermal Discouragement Beam never hit it as the Conglomerate Card kept if from being controlled so it continued pointing at the Banana Muffin.
No, the Conglomerate card went around it’s source, that’s what you said. When I said it was your Being of Food, I meant the one you had created it.
The sphere of Rose petals went around one part of the TDB, bending it like a prism bends light.
And anyway, you can’t make “impenetrable” moves. *would call you a hypocrite, but Paker is a civil game*
Whoops, this is Enc. Sudo was still logged in.
((Nobody else understands why Muse Academy students are so devoted to Paker. The game’s devotees, however, swear that there is no experience on Earth quite like (or, indeed, anything remotely like) a competitive, hard-fought round of Paker.))
I assume “Nobody Else” includes you?
Paul once described Paker as “providing valuable occupation for some very warped minds.”
If there is anything with even a vague resemblance, I will be very, very surprised.
Some believe that Paker allows the mind to revert to a state before civilization and thus provides a liberating freedom to overwhelm the player. Others believe that the incomprehensible array of statutes and paradoxes shut down the brain’s logic centers and release a large cloud of dopamine in the brain. But a definitive explanation remains elusive.
((188- That goes without saying. This game is as close as it gets to showing people your imagination run rampant without rules getting in the way. I say close as it gets because even here there are rules, minimal though they might be.))
Oh dear! Time for plan Q! I play a Four of My Personality. The shifting of sadism with compassion, emotion and apathy, lies and truths, and, of course, confusion creates a force field that covers all of my forces that renders all truth and/or lie related effects null and void.
I add the 6 of water, the 5 of eclairs, and the 9 of roses to my quicksand. Since roses are incompatible with water, this creates a conflicting field that will not allow any cards that involve roses, water, eclairs, peanut butter, or frogs to be played past it. Also, anything of the numbers 6, 7, 9, 2, or 8 with be weakened by 3/4 when played beyond the moat/vortex/quicksand. Yes, Enc, I am determined to trap you. Not that there isn’t a way out of this. You’ll just have to be resourceful.
What qualifies as beyond it?
Well, pretty much everything. Are you with Enc? Where the French Quarter was, that is the area you are trapped in, pretty much.
Ooh, someone’s trying to trap me? Well, I’ll do something unexpected.
I play the Queen of Herons within the quicksand moat, and then the 4 of Hedgepigs to create a Jefferson’s Inversion. The fact that Roses are surrounding me causes that to inverts, and become an inverted Jefferson’s Inversion, which causes ripples in the space time continuum, due to the fact that a double negative equals a positive, but there is no such thing as a plain Jefferson’s. Using the 5 of Hares to harness the ripples, I add area to the area within the quicksand moat, it is now larger on the inside than the outside. Using the King of Chorley Cakes, I play it upon Jefferson’s Inversion, causing the 3 of Herons to separate, and the King of Chorley Cakes to become Sweeney Todd, and the Queen of Herons to become Mrs. Lovett. This creates the Meat Pie Shop, which means that anybody playing within the moat is allowed to play the # of Meat Pies.
Now here’s the brilliant part: I play the Knave of Hedgepigs within the moat, along with the Ace of Hedgepigs outside the moat. It creates a wall of Hedgepigs, but not as strictly garded as the French Quarter- the area within the Moat can be as chaotic as you like, as long as you don’t steal it. Otherwise Sweeney and Lovett will bake some meat pies. Your intended trap has now become my palace, where my least favorite cards can’t be played! Why thank you!
I play the Seven and Eight of Meat Pies inside the moat. Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett eat them and fall asleep, so I play the Deuce and King of Antimony. The antimony reacts badly with the Inverted Jefferson’s Inversion, turning it into an Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Inverted Franklin’s Inversion. The inversion turns the Hedgepig Wall inside-out, and it is now a llaW gipegdeH, so it now allows the area outside the moat to be chaotic. I then play the Three of Hares and Five of Roses upon the llaW gipegdeH, so it becomes a llaW giperaH yekipS ddO which prevents it from being inverted.
I’ll join!
I quickly play the 6, 7, and 9 of Herons, the 2 of Chorley Cakes, and the 8 of Hares around Enceladus’s moat, creating an extra retaining wall. Then I play the 5 of Hedgepigs, which, attracted by the smell of Meat pies, burrows under the retaining wall, destroying the edges of the moat so all that is holding it in is my wall of cards. It then eats all the pies, and, so happy with its delicious lunch, begins to dance a waltz. All waltzes are in 3/4, which weakens my card retaining wall, which breaks, spilling quicksand everywhere. Enc’s castle is no more.
Having lost all comprehension of the game, I ask: should we end this round, now that I have the Golden Wung back in my possession? We could clean the board up a bit and bring the play back to sanity.
No! Please! I’m so close to finishing my setup!
For no apparent reason, I play a Five of Ladders and a Five of Open Umbrellas inside my previously empty tower. Then I place an Eight of Greek Fire (creating eight more pots of Greek Fire) beside the Ladders, and another near the Open Umbrellas. (Once again, for no apparent reason.)
Piggy-No, this is too much fun.
I’m assuming that Enc is now underground in my dungeon, if quicksand spilled everywhere. Opti, too, if en was with Enc. Sudo, you do know that the whole board is in danger of being transported to my dungeon with out a proper lining of cards?
I take the 7 of water and add it to the quicksand, overcoming the roses and deleting the force field. Next I grab the Queen of sand and add it to the quicksand, drying it up. Of course, now we’ve got some impresive sand dunes, but the enchantment is undone. This means that Enc and possibly Opti are not able to do a reverse enchantment and get up through the quicksand.
I believe that Sudo meant for the quicksand to spill everywhere, I think in that case we’re all in your dungeon.
We aren’t on the board, so only our cards are in the dungeon.
Doesn’t matter, if you were where the French Quarter was, you’re in the dungeon.
PLAY THE GOLDEN WUNG, YOU FOOL! There are some things a Bailiff can’t fix any other way!
I play the Three of Harons. The Haron, as it is half Hare and half Heron, is able to fly above the quicksand while remaining a trump. The Haron flies over to a depression half full of quicksand, and jumps in. As it is pulled away into the dungeon, it pulls the plug out of the ground, draining the quicksand. I then play the Five of Water on the board and the Six of Water in the dungeon, and my cards use the portal to recreate my defenses.
There is no more quicksand. It all dried up. Now there are some sand dunes, but they don’t carry any enchantment/vortex. Sorry if I didn’t make that clear…
I’m rather in favor of ending the game. I don’t feel involved at all, and I’m very confused.
Also, there seems to be quite a lot of wung-point theft/random destruction/creation. I was under the impression that most of these actions could only be preformed by the Grand Bailiff. Am I mistaken?
There hasn’t been any wung point theft lately. And all of us are confused, so don’t worry.
I decide to play the Golden Wung. End of round.
Realizing this is not the most common choice, I clear the board–it’s far too jumbled to simply tidy up. Furthermore, in order to help keep the game under control, I hereby ban all use of unusual dimensions, of portals, of flying pastries of any sort, of armies of any description, of geographic and political organizations such as countries, and of anything that resembles or is meant to resemble any weapon. This has turned into a convoluted, lawless war, not a Paker game.
1. Be reasonable.
2. You are not invincible.
3. You are not omnipotent.
4. If you make a mess, you must clean it up.
5. This is not a war game.
6. Keep calm and carry on.
Start of round 2.
WHAT?!? No pie-throwing?!?
Correct. This is a card game. Pies are very messy and tend to stain the carpet.
Wait a second. I know I wasnt’ really here for the game (though it is entertaining to read) but how is this Paker if we can’t mess around with the laws of reality a little bit?
It got too incomprehensible, so I had to revoke the privilege of breaking the laws of physics. When I think everyone can handle it again, I’ll let them.
Yes! Sanity! (Wow, I never thought I’d say that.) By the way, are really odd cards allowed, like the 5 of Water, or 4 of Bananas? Or have those been abolished as well? *hopes for the latter*
To begin my new attempt at a bastion, I play a 3 of Roses (A wooden triangle overgrown with rose vines) and a 4 of Hares (A greek crosss being carried by a buch of rabbits) on top, near the Eastern Quarter of the board. Due to Maximilien’s Postulate, they form a Thorned Tower, with rabbit guards. It has rose covered thorns on the side, so it is difficult, though not impossible, to climb. I place my wung points at the top, because I do not care much about them. I play a 5 of Muffins (5 Muffins, fresh out of the oven, with slightly something strange about each of them) above them, creating a roof, so havoc may not be wreaked from the skies. I will retrieve the wung points later, but for now they are there, free for the taking. I play a 6 of Chorley cakes, just for fun, which causes Rouseau’s Gambit to take effect- the wung points add one for each turn taken (each post posted) that they are not stolen. However, I am able to retrieve them at any time. So it will be a guessing game between waiting longer, and having someone else steal them.
As nobody else has played yet, I do not go on the offensive. I simply relax, and watch my tower.
Use nonstandard cards as sparingly as humanly possible. Overuse may result in a fine.
Yes! Nonstandard cards annoy me.
Incidentally: feel free to read the second and third installments of volume 1 of the Hare & Hedgepig to study Paker in its creation and infancy. Paul was a far better Bailiff than myself, but as he is far too busy to be bailiffing, I do what I can. Also take time to admire the once-great popularity of the H&H. *sighs* Were it to be that popular again…
I’m out. No chance of maintaining with NaNo coming up. I might reenter the game sometime in December, schoolwork permitting.
Same here.
Very well. Fare well, ye Namer of the Game!
So new round, only infrequent use of non-standard cards, no breaking of the laws of physics.
I play the Three and Four of Roses along with the Ace of Hedgepigs, creating a Low Thorny Hedgepig Bastion.
I play the Ten of Chorley Cakes in the center of the board, arrange them in a circle, and place the Ace of Roses in the center. Using the Four of Hedgepigs and Four of Herons, I set them at a slight spin, which increases a small amount each turn.
I play the Three of Herons inside AM’s Chorley Circle. The heron builds a bakery oven and uses it to bake a Chocolate Chip Cookie of Tastiness, which increases the strength of whatever construct it is in. The tastiness of the cookie temporarily summons the Archangel of Deliciousness from the previous game, and it blesses the oven before leaving. The blessing both means that anything baked in the oven will be doubly tasty and that the oven and circle of Chorley Cakes create a Chorley Circle Bakery Bastion. As we have cards forming a construct, I ask AM for an alliance.
Really, people. Everyone disappears the moment there’s a new round.
I think people are avoiding it, due to the fact that NANOWRIMO IS IN LESS THAN A MONTH
(GWAH MY CHARACTER HAS A CLICHED FIRST NAME)
By the way, Enc, I’m leaving my two wung points to you.
Having read recent posts, I wish to dispute Piggy’s modest protestation. Piggy is an INSPIRED High Bailiff, and I’m delighted the game’s still afoot and thriving, despite Nanowrimo.
Meanwhile, apologies for absence. The course of my life suggests that my appearances will be occasional and random, much like my mentality. Let me attempt to kickstart the new game.
I hereby donate a second Golden Wung, which may be played by any player. The High Bailiff does, however, still have a discretional veto on its use. Let’s see if it causes trouble.
We’ll have to make it a bit harder, though. I’m playing an array of roses in a rhomboid formation, locked down with the three of hares. That forms Coker’s Bludgeon around the Golden Wung. It’s assailable, but watch out for the double reversion if you go in along a cardinal.
I suppose we should start the new round, now that everyone is completely finished with NaNoWriMo.
I play the Three and One Half of Muffins on the north corner of the board, reinforcing it with the Seven and Five Ninths of Peanut Butter to form a Minor Fractionated Peanut Pastry Construct. I play the Knave, Queen, and King of Herons inside it, creating a Royal Heron Troop. I then finish my turn with the Two, Three, Five, and Seven of Roses around the Coker’s Bludgeon, and reinforce them with the Jack of Peanut Butter to create a Prime Pattern of Annulment, which prevents anyone from entering the Coker’s Bludgeon for five turns and cannot be negated or removed due to the Peanut Butter.
I don’t think fraction cards exist right now. The deck stopped being confused at the end of the last round, remember?
hmm.. This thread looks dead, but if it isn’t, can I join?
It’s entirely dead. If you want to join, go ahead, but I’ve given up hope of ever playing Paker again.
That’s sad. I wonder whether there’s any way to get another game going. I’ll consult my fellow GAPAs.
I’m game. I was just thinking about Paker the other day, wishing I could play again.
I’d be happy to play, to try and get it going again!
Same.
Yeah, me too.
Wow, that was quick. Now, including Piggy we have 5 people who want to play! Can we start now or do we need more to get a good game?
Sounds like time for me to create a new Game Room thread.