This is hard! It’s almost as hard as the pavement I decided to headbutt last year. Mind you, that was not intentional. Oh, okay, I shall enlighten you somewhat, although not with any form of incendiary device - oh no - not after last time.
It was a cold winter’s day two months before this incident took place. I had been inside the pub (that’s short for public house for those who don’t know) (for those who do know don’t ask, okay?) when I decided that I would have a curry along with several friends.
I didn’t actually consider becoming an anthropophagi, I just wished to have the companionship of a group of friends during this culinary experience. No, not that sort of companionship.
It was as I was perambulating various obstacles on the pavement (or sidewalk as I believe it can be classified) - if you want to know what the obstacles were I’d only tell you a load of bollards - when I sighted it.
It was a railing. Not only a railing, but a flight of steps as well - oh joy! Now, I suppose I should reveal myself a bit (not in the same way I did when I accidentally got my tie caught in the ATM card slot and barely avoided decapitation). I am a reckless bounder - and someone who loves to use hyphens in sentences - I bound around to the extent that I’ve been called Tigger, and my friends regularly talk about ‘PT power’. A railing, to me, is like a rag to a red bull…or should that be red rag to a bull? You know, one of those supposedly inflammatory objects (which has no factual basis since the aforementioned bovine creature is colourblind) which enrages said mammal.
That’s not to say I charge towards railings in a fury. Oh no. I tend to vault them. Jump over them, not put them in a safety deposit box in a bank. This railing was no exception to the rule.
To cut a long story shorter than it would be if I didn’t cut it shorter than it’s full length I attempted to leap, gazelle-like, over the railing.
Imagine an olympic pole-vaulted, mid-flight, having attained a posture of grace and elegance after clearing the bar just as they realise that some bastard has removed the crash mat. That’s how I felt as my trailing foot caught the railing and impeded the progress of my lower body.
This left me without a leg to stand on, so to speak. And so I headbutted the pavement. If you want to know whether I survived you’ll have to speak to my undertaker.
Anyway, back to the OP topic. What was it? <consults notes> Oh yes, the board game.
I’ve subscribed to this board game and I’ve only twice managed to get past level 2, and one of those was on the training setting where you can start on level 9.
My main problem is that there’s so much to see on levels one and two: I’ll often get delayed watching a trainwreck, or narrowly avoid being burnt to death on the first level; as for level two, well I keep getting entangled in various threads and eventually run out of time.
The only time I got to level three, using a rather dodgy poll, the server crashed before I’d saved my position.
I’ve heard that the end of level guardian on level five is some sort of cross between the devil and a politician and can only be beaten by a verbal sword. Not that I’ve got up to level five (“the Great Debating Arena”) but I’ve seen several people who failed to get past the guardian and end up getting chased back to level one - usually engulfed in flames from the denizens of both levels. (I’m told that level four is nothing more than a coffee shop, where you can rest and recuperate.)
Can anyone help me get away from the pit? I just find myself wading through scores of threads about “Why armadillos make better footstools than Relgious icons” or “Racist Troll - this is your conscience calling”.
I’ve tried the helpline but it appears that there’s only a higly sarcastic person on the other end (who has all the answers but won’t tell me them) - he muttered something about it not being a game but my boxed set clearly labels it as a “Fight against ignorance!” with “Teeming millions” of ignorant monsters to destroy with accurately placed facts.
If I don’t get some help soon I’ll demand my money back…