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Welcome...to my Shed!
Click [Play] and...
It hardly seems like three years since I crossed the magic 1000 posts line only, now, to find myself - chest thrust out against the shiny tape - pressing home the 2000! Only one other BGG blog has been this way before me and that's Eric's BGG News which had a head start, to be fair (but I'm catching him albeit very slowly).
Qn. Is there anyone who's been with me since the beginning*
I've laughed, cried, ranted, travelogued, designed (and designer diary-ed), japed, "session reported", surreal-ed, rumoured and generally muscled my way in to your mornings (or your last thing at nights) since 2011 and yet I still can't get any love from The Geek Weekly! I get (much) love from you folks, though, and that's the (second) best kind of Love of all.
Qn. Why don't people thumb humorous posts with Polls/Quizzes in?
Just like when its one's birthday on a work day, it is I who have brought along some treats!
First up, for those of you who are still having - or who just got the game and are about to have - problems with Guilds of London's iconography, I've done a couple of helpful markup sheets. Simply print on to A4 sized labels, cut out and then affix to the bottom of each card before sheathing in the branded sleeve of your choice:
(If my GoL expansion ever sees the light of day, I'll be sure and get these done on transparent, sticky plastic)
Qn. What is your favourite post evva?
Secondly, I have been awfully selfish in my persistent banging on about "having a shed" (and the need thereof/therein/wheretofore), so I've made some up for Snowdonia and they come in a variety of first-come first-served flavours:
Costs are varying (there is no defined order, just choose the one you want). Your 3rd worker costs 1 coal, but if you pay an extra coal you get your 3rd worker AND you may take a contract card from the selection - if you do take a card, replace it immediately from the top of the deck. During train maintenance you must discard a contract card you possess or lose the train Shed.
Finally, here's a special edition from Boydell's FLGS:
(we are in a FLGS; you can tell because it smells of stale farts and pizza dough even though you’re just reading a description of it on-screen. There are a variety of new releases in the display window along with a sign that says: “Don’t ask because we don’t have: Gloomhaven, any 7 Wonders Dual promos, that game with the ‘tits’ in).”. The cashier is stood behind the counter trying to release his hand from the counter-top, to which it has been stapled)
Doorbell: Ding-dong-dong-ding. Dong-ding-ding-dong.
Customer: (brushing dry leaves from his shoulders) Good afternoon.
Cashier: (looking up; covers stuck hand with a tea-towel) Ah, yes. Good afternoon, Sir! Can I help at all?
Customer: (chuckling, he takes a piece of folded paper from his breast pocket and opens it) Yes, indeed; I very much hope so! Do you have...Whorer Et Labora?
Cashier: Do you mean Ora Et Labora...by Uwe Rosenberg?
Customer: No, I mean Whorer Et Labora by Duvet Rosenbonk. It's about building and running a place of ill-repute.
Cashier: We haven't got any games by Duvet Rosenbonk
Customer: It's about placing your workers in to empty action slots...mostly.
Cashier: That's as may be, sir, but we don't have it.
Customer: You must have heard of Fields of Arse?
Cashier: No, sir.
Customer: A Fist for Odin? (the cashier glares at the customer) - I see. How about games by Richard Breese?
Cashier: Why, yes, we DO have games by him.
Cashier: Key-flower, sir.
Customer: No, Deflower. Or Inhabit My Berth?
Cashier: (confused) How are you spelling "Breese", sir?
Customer: B - R - I - E - F - S. The 'F' is silent.
Cashier: (annoyed) Of course it is.
Customer: (looks at list again) I'll try another des-
Cashier: (catching on) Before you ask, "sir", we don't have any games by "Stiff 'un" Feld or Anal R. Moon or Ign-arse-y Trevijerk or Reiner Ker-tits-ia or Alexander Fister or Phil Wanker-Harding or -
Customer: (interrupting) Eric Wang?
Cashier: (fed up) No, sir; and now I am going to have to ask you to leave -
(the cashier tries to walk around the counter but his hand his still stuck to the countertop; he tugs extra hard and the hand is freed - the staple pings off and hits the doorbell)
Customer: Wait! Wait, I want to buy -
Cashier: (hustling the customer toward the door) Out!
Customer: Tony Boydell?
Cashier: What? (he pauses his pushing)
Customer: Tony Boydell - do you have any games by Tony Boydell?
Cashier: Not "Boney Toydell"? Not "Tony Bordello"?
Cashier: (dusts himself off; notices there is a huge hole in the middle of his staple-less hand) Er...well I've got a copy of (reaches down to pick something up and shows it to the customer) this?
Question: What game did he show the customer?**
So, there you have it: two bloody thousand posts***.
Can I stop yet?
*excluding anyone who has died or been imprisoned, naturally.
**there shall be a prize for the best answer
***Of course, I'm expecting peeps to thumb the 'flip' out of this post!
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in your everyday, run-of-the-mill, plain-and-simple FLGS; the cashier is operating a forklift truck and elevating a single copy of Gloomhaven to the top of the ‘New Arrivals’ shelf; he is sniggering, profusely, as the pallet rises, in anticipation of the larks that shall surely ensue when a customer eventually tries to retrieve it for purchase. In the window display, unopened Star Wars Destiny booster packs are being fanned out in an elaborate and decorative manner by the store assistant who has also, that morning, cleaned and polished the front window’s glass so that the display is clearly visible; spot-lights and ‘flash’ signs further emphasise the availability of these sought-after products. Thin slivers of razor blade are being affixed to the rim of the display’s back so that any customer invited to “lean over and pull them straight out of the window” will inevitably receive horrific chest and/or stomach wounds. A pyramid of Anachronys shines from the far corner and is signalled by a line of floor tiles with bright “Follow me!” arrows pasted on; each so-decorated tile is several millimetres proud of the overall flooring level because anti-personnel mines have been secreted beneath. The assistant meets the cashier at the Sales Desk and they take, examine and prime a pump-action shotgun each; the barrels of both weapons sport the stencilled phrase “Free Rising Sun Kickstarter Stretch Goal Inside!”. The Stock Room door has, itself, been re-decorated with an enormous 3D PoS standee for Terraforming Mars and a banner announcing 'Self-Service Inside'; if you were to listen, briefly, at the portal you would hear the unmistakable growling of a large cat or cats. A guillotine, primed and horribly-sharp, provides the frame and frontage to a shelf of Santorinis. By the Till, a mass of slithering, writhing and spitting Cobra are contained within a 'Pledge Jar' inviting customers to "Post Your Pandemic Legacy: Season Two Pre-Orders HERE!")
Door Bell: Ning-nong-nang: clang!
(a customer enters)
Cashier: (rubbing his hands, he speaks under his breath, to the assistant He we flipping go!
Cashier: (brightly, cheerfully) Good morning, Sir! Can I help you? (he waves his arms as if receiving adulation from the room)
Customer: Yes, indeed; I wonder if you might have a copy of -
(both the cashier and the assistant lean in a little closer)
Cashier: (excitedly) Yes?
Customer: - a copy of -
Customer: (innocently, without a trace of irony) Monopoly?
(the scene freezes; a smartly-dressed Narrator type wanders in front of the image and speaks)
Narrator: Little did that Customer know how close he came to his doom; let this be a warning to you all: the cult of the new is The. Cult. Of. Death.
(fade to black)
Welcome...to my Shed!
(I wrote this way back in 2013 and re-discovered it this morning on a "Your Memories" feed of somesuch or other; I'm really rather pleased with it and present it for your delectation again. It still feels more apposite than ever!)
Once upon a time there was a village. In the village there lived a Farmer who had a large orchard. The orchard, every year, produced fruit for the Farmer and, every year, he would bake many apple pies, load his cart and draw them along the dusty road into the nearby Town. The Farmer liked a variety of apples in his Orchard and there was always something new growing in one of the corners.
The Farmer had just finished setting out his stall in the Town Square, and had written a number of simple signs to inform and delight his customers, when the first visitor of the day arrived. The first visitor was carrying a basket with a mouldy pie in it and a deep frown: "I bought this pie from you last month and when I had it for my breakfast this morning it tasted awful - I want my money back!"
The Farmer replied: "The pie was fresh when I sold it to you, Sir; did you not read the instructions about storage, serving suggestions or note the 'Use by' date?"
The man responded, angrily: "The instructions? Why would I need to read instructions? I've eaten food all of my life and have been known to partake of apple pie on occasion - what use have I for instructions? I think I can work it out for myself."
The Farmer, a reasonable man, explained that he couldn't give a refund but offered a replacement pie by way of good will.
"I'd rather have my money back" said the customer, "because I already have lots of fruit pies in my larder and I'm not sure I need another one."
The Farmer smiled: "But my apple pie contains my own blend of spices and sweetenings that you won't find in other pies."
The Farmer handed him a new type of pie made with a variety of apples, some of which were unfamiliar to the citizens of the town.
"Spices?" sneered the customer, "Spices? My neighbour says spices and apple are an awful combination - he heard it from his cousin, who heard it from a traveller at the Inn"
"So you've never actually tried spices with your apple pie, then?" asked the Farmer.
"No, certainly not." said the customer, "and I'm not about to start now! I regard myself as an adventurous eater. I applaud innovation in baking, I'm all for experimentation - but I just don't want to try anything new - especially if someone else says it's rubbish anyway."
"You can have a pie baked to the same recipe as the mouldy one, then - if you like?" smiled the Farmer.
The customer sighed: "How dull!"
The Farmer continued: "So you don't want something the same as before but you definitely don't want to try something new?"
"Yes...er, no...er, yes" spluttered the customer.
"Take a look at this menu" offered the Farmer. The customer took the menu and scanned it...
"Hmmm....apple and honey? I don't like bees so that pie will be utterly disgusting!"
"Here...try some" said the Farmer.
The customer took a mouthful of the apple and honey pie and spat it straight out again: "Euurrrgh! It's got a crunchy bit of apple in it!" he exclaimed.
"Oh," said the Farmer, "that sometimes happens - just set it to one side and try another bite."
The customer pushed him away: "No, thank you! If I have a crunchy bit of apple in my first bite then I'm bound to have another crunchy bit in the next one...and a maggot...and probably some stones. Someone in the Tavern said that all apple pies will, on average, be 78% likely to contain uneven levels of crunch in the apple. Do you have anything else?"
"I've got small rhubarb pies" replied the Farmer.
"Rhubarb? That's popular in the neighbouring countries, isn't it?" said the customer, "Not sure I care for that...AND I don't like small pies - small pies are pointless and unsatisfying as everyone who knows about pies knows; give me a large pie every time! Preferably one I can divide up into equal shares."
The Farmer sighed.
Cheerily, the customer asked: "By the way, how you tell the different types of pie apart on your stall?"
The Farmer took a couple of delicious-looking dishes from the shelves and pointed to their tops: "I label each one with a pastry alphabetic character..."
The customer grimaced: "Euurgh!" he coughed, "I don't like the font you've chosen!"
The Farmer reached into his jerkin and pulled out a shiny sixpence; he placed it firmly in the customer's hand then closed up his stall and went home to his village.
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in a Friendly LG Store; the shelves are blah blah rhubarb rhubarb, blither and blather. The cashier is behind the counter and holding a tall house plant in front of his chest and face. He is sniggering)
Doorbell: *My ding a ling, my ding a ling. I want to play with my ding a ling*
Customer: (looking around, confused) Hello?
(the Cashier continues to snigger)
Customer: (wandering about, lifting the occasional box) Hello? Hellooooooooooo?
Cashier: (still behind the Chlorophytum comosum) Good morning, Sir!
Customer: (jumps in surprise then looks about, panicked) Who said that?!
(the cashier lowers the plant and smiles)
Cashier: I’m over here. (he waves) Just my little joke, Sir!
Customer: (holds hand to chest and breathes deeply) Gosh! You really had me worried for a moment!
Cashier: (contritely) I’m so sorry, Sir; I didn’t mean to startle you quite so much. Now, how can I help?
Customer: (reaching in to his pocket, he retrieves a regular d6) Well, I’ve been recently having problems with this (puts the d6 on to the counter and points to it)
Cashier: (lowers his face so that his nose is almost touching it) What's the issue, Sir?
Customer: Well, I was playing a game of Eclipse with several of my gaming associates and, during the combat resolution for control of a key ‘1’ sector – it was a crossroads for multiple potential enemy player incursions - I needed to roll greater than or equal to a ‘4’ to destroy his Star Base but, instead, rolled a ‘2’
Cashier: (sympathetically) I see. That must’ve been quite distressing for you, Sir?
Customer: Indeed it was; I ended up failing to take the sector as a result.
Cashier: And did you lose the game, Sir?
Customer: That’s not yet clear because as soon as I failed to roll the ‘four or more’, I resolved to get it checked over and came here immediately.
Cashier: So the game is still “in progress”?
Cashier: I see (scratches his head) Well, before I book the die in for evaluation I just need to take a few details –
Customer: Go ahead.
Customer: The same one I’ve had since Birth -
Cashier: Great. Address?
Customer: Yes, thank you.
Cashier: Approximate date of purchase?
Customer: Of my address?
Cashier: No, Sir; of the die.
Customer: (chuckles) Actually, there’s a very amusing story behind that!
(there is a long pause)
Cashier: (moving along) Well…that all seems to be in order. If you could just go to the Service Desk over there (points to a pile of charred copies of The Big Book of Madness)
(the customer picks up the die and walks over to the service desk)
Service Operative: Good morning, Sir. (a paper aeroplane thrown by the cashier hits him in the face; he unravels the plane and reads) Ah, I see you’re having trouble with one of your dice?
Customer: (putting it on to the counter, which is still smoking slightly) Here it is.
Service Operative: (inspects it) Ok...let’s try a few things out: please name an integer between 1 and 5.
Customer: A three.
(the Service Operative rolls the die and it comes up ‘6’)
Service Operative: And again, Sir?
Customer: A two.
(the Service Operative rolls the die and it comes up ‘4’; this is repeated eight times more – on each roll, the number is greater than or equal to the number suggested by the customer)
Service Operative: Well, that all seems to be in order, Sir -
Customer: How odd.
Service Operative: - and with it being out of Warranty, it would be quite a bit more expensive to take a more detailed look, Sir.
Customer: So what do you recommend?
Service Operative: Well, you could go back and finish the game and keep an eye on it; or -
Service Operative: - or: we could roll it a few times here, make notes and you could take them back and use those predetermined numbers instead?
Customer: I think I’ll go for that last option…
(the Operative takes out a clean piece of paper and rolls the die repeatedly, writing the value down each time; when done, he hands the die and the paper to the customer)
Service Operative: There you are, Sir; that will be £25 plus VAT
(the customer pays and leaves)
TWO HOURS LATER
Doorbell: *My ding a ling, my ding a ling. I want to play with my ding a ling*
(the same customer from before enters and scurries over to the Service Desk)
Service Operative: (recognising him) O! Hello, Sir! Is everything alright?
Customer: Yes, except -
Service Operative: Except what, Sir?
Customer: (confused, he holds out the paper) Do I use the numbers starting from the ‘top’, or just pick them from the list at random?
Service Operative: Oh, for Fu -
Thu Jan 19, 2017 11:01 am
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in an FLGS; the shelves, groaning with colourful boxes and cartons, are be-decked with sparkling Festive decorations and richly-scented foliage. A gently-audible soundtrack of traditional carols, sung by the Choir of some Cathedral or other, fills the space from a tinselled ghetto blaster. Expectations of increased foot-fall means there are two Cashiers on duty today; both are wearing humorous jumpers with a Christmas theme)
Door bell: *ding-dong-merrily-on-high*
(a customer enters; he is dressed in a greatcoat, a superscarf and an absolutelyfabuloustophat)
Cashier 1: (straightens his reindeer-with-a-glowing-red-nose jumper and speaks cheerily) Well hello there! And a very Merry Christmas to you!
(a couple of customers enter)
Customer: (removes hat; underneath is a small child reading a pop-up book) Merry Christmas to you, too! Don’t mind her... (points to infant) ...”babysitting issues”.
Cashier 2: (chipping in) …just like Mary, the Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, had – eh?
Cashier 1: (frowning slilghtly) Well, quite -
Customer: Anyway, I don’t suppose you have a copy of –
Cashier 1: (interrupting; holds up a plate) Mince pie?
Customer: (delighted) Ooh, yes please! (takes a bite)
(Cashier 2 sells a copy of Inis to another customer)
Cashier 1: I made them myself, you know?
Customer: (talking with his mouth full) Mmmf ree-ee?
Cashier 1: Yes, from my own flaky skin
Customer: (gags; spits pastry in to his hand) Oh –
Cashier 1: Now, how can we help?
(customers leave, others enter)
Customer: (wiping mouth on scarf) Ah, yes; have you got a copy of -
Cashier 1: (holds up a bright, cardboard tube) Would you like to pull a Christmas Cracker with me?
Customer: Um, er...okay.
(they pull the cracker; there is a disproportionately-loud bang and the customer is left with most of the cracker and soot on the end of his nose)
Cashier 1: Ah splendid, Sir! You’ve won! Let’s see what your prize is!
Customer: (pulling something from the open-ended tube) It's...a resource-eeple shaped like a Satsuma (holds it up)
Cashier 1: (disposes of rubbish) Don’t forget your party hat, Sir!
(the customer opens the paper crown and carefully lowers it on and around the small – still reading - child)
Customer: So, please, a copy of –
Cashier 1: (pulling out a decanter) A sip of sherry, Sir?
Customer: No thanks, just –
Cashier 2: (chipping in) How about some Gluhwein? Or a snifter of Port?
Customer: No, thank you, no; I’m driving; now, could I please get –
Cashier 1: (puts his finger to the customer’s lips and makes a soft shushing sound) Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. (points to the ceiling; there is a large sprig of mistletoe hanging above the Till)
Customer: Really, I –
(Cashier 2 sells a copy of Inis to another customer)
Cashier 1: It’s just a little peck, Sir – and it is Christmas, after all?
(the Customer and the Cashier have a little kiss)
Cashier 1: (straightens his jumper; the nose lights up with a tinkling sound) There, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Sir? Merry Christmas! Now, how can I help?
Customer: I want to buy a copy of Inis, please.
Cashier 1: (looking concerned) Indeed; that is proving to be a very popular choice, Sir!
Cashier 2: (apologetically) Um, I just sold the last copy.
Customer: (crest-fallen) Oh dear...
(Cashier 2’s jumper, which has a three-dimensional pudding on it, makes a farting noise in time to Jingle Bells; the child begins to cry)
Cashier 1: (mournfully) Oh goodness; what a sorry state of affairs in this Season of Joy and Goodwill
Cashier 2: (pointing) Don’t you want to finish your mince pie, Sir?
Customer: Well...(sighs)...thank you anyway (turns to leave; puts top hat back on and walks to the door)
Cashier 1: (calling out) Hold on, Sir! Hold on a December moment!
(the customer turns round and looks expectantly at the Cashiers)
Cashier 1: (reaches under the desk for a gift-wrapped parcel; it is exactly the same size as a copy of Inis) Please accept this (holds the package out) as a token of our VERY good will, Sir.
Customer: (moved almost to tears) Why *gulp* thank you; that’s lovely!
Cashier 1: Our pleasure, Sir. May you have a peaceful time (emphasises) “INIS” Yuletide period (he winks, theatrically, at Cashier 2)
Customer: (a sparkle in his eyes) Oh! I...see! Thank you! Thank you so much!
(the customer departs; the sound of the child’s sobs are barely audible now – muffled, as they are, by the Hat)
Cashier 1: (hugging Cashier 2) I bloody love Christmas!
(cut to: Christmas Day; we are in the home of the Customer. Excitedly, the small child struggles to carry the enormous FLGS parcel to her Father. They unwrap it and find an Inis box underneath! The shrink is removed and the lid lifted to reveal...a solitary, bubble-wrapped copy of Scandaroon)
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in a typical friendly local game store; the front window is stuffed full of shiny, still-shrinkwrapped products fresh from Essen Spiel 2016: there is something huge and unwieldy from that bloke who did the farming game, there's something surprisingly unpoint-salady from the point salad bloke, there's the latest effort from He Who Wins All The Awards and a copy of "the surprise hit of the show" (as voted for by a secret cabal of five industry moguls). The Cashier is browsing the internet on a laptop and smoking an enormous Lord of the Rings clay pipe. A customer enters...)
Door Bell: *ding-a-CLONK!*
Cashier: (looking up at the door) Oh, gollocks. (notices the customer) Ah -
Cashier: (taking a huge puff) Goo g'norning, Sir!
Customer: (pointing) Are you supposed to be smoking in the workplace?
Cashier: (notices he is holding the pipe and does an elaborate double-take) Bloody Hell! (the pipe drops from his mouth and he kicks it away from him)
Customer: That's better.
Cashier: Can I help, Sir?
Customer: Yes, I wonder if you might have a copy of 51st State Master Set?
Cashier: (leaning closer) I sorry, I didn't quite catch that.
Customer: A copy of 51st State Master Set?
Cashier: (leaning closer still) Why are you speaking so softly, Sir?
Customer: I'm not - I simply asked if you had a copy of -
Cashier: (interrupting) - of 51st State Master Set?, yes.
Customer: So you did hear me, then?
Cashier: Well, yes and no, Sir.
Customer: (confused) Yes _and_ no?
Cashier: It's written down, Sir; there - (points to the computer screen)
Customer: (tracing his finger along a line of text in a blog post) Why, so it is -
Cashier: - and so is everything we're saying.
Customer: (reads a bit more then steps back in amazement) It says that I "step back in amazement"
Cashier: Which, indeed, you just did, Sir.
Customer: What's going on?
Cashier: I'm not quite sure, Sir, but I believe that we may - in fact - be constructs in a playful sketch narrative, Sir!
Customer: But that's impossible; I'm as real as the next man!
(a man instantly-materializes next to the customer)
Man: (chirpily) Did someone call?
Customer: (astounded) Wha?! -
Cashier: (typing) I wonder... (under his breath) The newly-appeared man walks backwards...
(the newly-appeared man walks backwards out of the shop)
Customer: (warily) Er...
Cashier: (still under his breath) The Customer...
Customer: (drops his trousers and shuffles around the shop, singing) "You can stand under my umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh) Under my umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh)" -
Cashier: (sniggering as he types) Then he...
Customer: (begins dry-humping a stack of Great Western Trails) "Oh for the wings, for the wi-ings of a do-ove!"
Cashier: The Customer picks up...
Customer: (picking up a copy of Fabled Fruit) Do you have this in orange? I have a tiny penis. Here! (opens wallet and starts throwing notes) Have all of my money!
(the Customer suddenly lunges across the shop and slams his hands on to the laptop's keyboard. The Cashier immediately straightens up, stiff as a board and motionless, a look of abject horror and surprise on his face)
Customer: (avenged, he departs) Enjoy your 'thumbs up', you prick.
(the Cashier painfully, carefully, taps once once on the keyb -
Welcome...to my Shed!
With apologies to Monty Python
(A customer walks in the door; a bell rings)
(musical ambience, provided by some Slam Metal, plays softly in the background)
Zev: Good morning.
Dan: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to Myriad Games!
Zev: Ah, thank you, my good man.
Dan: What can I do for you, Sir?
Zev: Well, I was sitting in the public library just now, skimming through a copy of '50 Shades of Lady Jane Gray' when I suddenly came over all 'Hobbyist'
Dan: ‘Hobbyist’, sir?
Zev: (whining): 'Ee, I wanna play games wi’ cards, meeples and dice, loike!
Dan: Ah! Board Games!
Zev: In a nutshell. And so I thought to myself: "A considered browse through multi-shelved exhibitorial facilities will do the trick." So I curtailed my studying activities, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some desirable Kennerspiel des Jahres-es.
Dan: Come again?
Zev: I want to buy some new games.
Dan: Oh, I thought you were complaining about our Chelsea Grin soundtrack!
Zev: Oh, heaven forbid! I am one who delights in all manifestations of the 'gutteral roar' and the 'piggy squeal'.
Zev: 'Oooo, Ah lahk a narse toon, 'yer forced to!
Dan: So they can go on bellowing, can they?
Zev: Most certainly! Now then, some releases from the last twelve months if you please, my good man.
Dan: (lustily) Certainly, Sir. What would you like?
Zev: Well, eh, how about a little Orleans Deluxe? Or the new map for Concordia?
Dan: I'm afraid we're fresh out of those, Sir.
Zev: Oh, never mind. How are you on Star Realms boosters?
Dan: We never have them at the end of the week, Sir; we get a fresh batch in on Monday.
Zev: Tish, tish, no matter. Well, stout yeoman, a Colt Express with all of it's attendant expansions, if you please.
Dan: Ah, they've beeeeeeeen on order, Sir, for two weeks. Was expecting them this morning.
Zev: 'T's not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Guilds of London?
Dan: Sorry, Sir.
Zev: Scythe...ANY edition will do?
Dan: Normally, Sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
Zev: Ah, My First Stone Age?
Zev: Mombasa? La Granja?
Zev: Any German language 7 Wonders Duel, per chance?
Zev: Captain Sonar?
Zev: Agricola - the new edition?
Zev: Blood Rage?
Dan: (pauses) No.
Zev: Inis? El Grande Big Box? Via Nebula? JamSumo? Arkwright? Eminent Domain? Mega Civilisation?
Zev: Pandemic Legacy, perhaps?
Dan: Ah! We have Pandemic Legacy, yessir!
Zev: (surprised) You do? Excellent!
Dan: Yessir. It's ...ah...a bit scuffed...
Zev: Oh, I like it scuffed.
Dan: Well, it's very weather-beaten, actually, Sir.
Zev: No matter. Fetch hither the new darling of co-operative, permanently-evolving 360 degree gaming experiences! Mmmmmmmmmwah!
Dan: I...think it's a bit scruffier than you'd like it, Sir -
Zev: I don't care how fucking scumbled it is: hand it over with all speed.
Dan: (regretfully) Awwwwwwwwwwwww...(pauses)
Zev: What now?
Dan: The Saturday Assistant has played the first two months, Sir.
Zev: (despondently) Has he?
Dan: She, Sir .
(there is a pause)
Zev: Great Western Trail?
Zev: Cry Havoc?
Zev: Secret Hitler?
Zev: Wooden box edition of Viticulture & Tuscany?
Dan: No, Sir.
Zev: You do HAVE some games, don't you?
Dan: Of course, Sir. It's an FLGS, sir! We've got...
Zev: No, no - don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.
Dan: Fair enough.
Zev: Uuuuuuuuuuhhhh, Yokahama?
Zev: Ah, well! I'll have one of those!
Dan: Oh, I thought you were talking to me, sir. Dave Yokahama, that's my name.
(there is another pause)
Zev: Millenium Blades?
Dan: Uh, not as such.
Zev: Glory To Rome?
Zev: Puerto Rico?
Zev: Bausack? Thunderstone: 12th Edition?
Zev: Ticket To Ride: United Kingdom?
Zev: Cheapass Games print-and-play version of Kill Doctor Lucky?
Dan: Not TODAY, Sir, no.
Zev: How about Codenames?
Dan: Well, we don't get much call for it around here, Sir.
Zev: Not much ca - it's the single best party board game in the world!
Dan: Not 'round here, Sir.
Zev: (slight pause) And what IS the most popular party board game "round hyah"?
Dan: (proudly) Wits & Wagers, sir.
Zev: Is it?
Dan: Oh, yes. Staggeringly popular in this manor, squire.
Zev: Is it?
Dan: It's our number one best-seller, Sir.
Zev: I see. Wits & Wagers, eh?
Dan: Right, Sir.
Zev: All right. Okay. "Have you got any?" he asked, expecting the
Dan: I'll have a look, Sir. (pause) Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-no.
Zev: It's not much of an FLGS, is it?
Dan: Finest in the district!
Zev: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
Dan: Well...it's so clean!
Zev: It's certainly uncontaminated by games...
Dan: (brightly) You haven't asked me about Seafall, Sir!
Zev: Would it be worth it?
Dan: Could be...
Zev: (slowly) Have you got any copies of Seafall?
Dan: No. Sold out at Gencon in less than an hour, Sir.
Zev: Figures. Predictable, really I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
Zev: (deliberately and carefully): Have you ever, or have you now, in fact got any board or card games here at all?
Dan: Well, I suppose we'll have to let the Judge decide that one, won't we?
Welcome...to my Shed!
Bell: *tingle-dingle ring-a-ding-ding*
Cashier: (looking up from his Esdevium catalogue) Shut the f-
(a customer enters; the cashier quickly throws the catalogue beneath the counter, brushes some crumbs from the counter top and beams at him)
Cashier: Ah! Good afternoon, Sir; can I help you?
Customer: (pulling a crumpled note from his pocket) I hope so, indeed! I'd like to get a copy of...(squints)...Scythe, is it? I hear it's quite good -
Cashier: (bends slighty, clutches the front of his trousers and makes an 'O' face) O! I've just cum!
Customer: (surprised) I beg your pardon?
Cashier: (massaging his crotch) I've just spunked up in my pants, Sir.
Customer: Well, I -
Cashier: (breathing slowly) You _did_ say the magic word, Sir
(an assistant appears at the door of what must be the stock room carrying a couple of large TCG booster boxes)
Customer: (bewildered) The "magic word"? What tommyrot, I merely asked you if you had a copy of Scythe -
(the assistant immediately crumples at the knee, tipping the boxes on the floor)
Assistant: (in agony) Oh Lordy! All the blood has rushed to my knob!
Cashier: (bends double again, his eyes squeezed tightly shut) Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh Christ!
Customer: (annoyed) This is outrageous behaviour; utterly ridiculous! I fail to see how saying -
Cashier: (panicking; trying to put his hand over the customer's mouth) Don't say it AGAIN, Sir!
Customer: - Scythe -
Assistant: (lying flat on his back, he begins to shudder and spasm) I feel faint!
Cashier: (collapses behind the counter, moaning) Oh, sweet Mary! Sweet, sweet...
Assistant: (breathless) It's like a baby's arm holding an apple!
Cashier: (weakly, as he stands again)My balls ache!
Customer: (furious) Well, I have never -
Cashier: (soothingly) I am so terribly sorry, Sir; but "that item" is, currently, the hottest and most beautiful and most sought after game in the gaming world, Sir - (bites lip) Mmmmmmmm.
Customer: (making to leave) I've had enough of this nonsense - do you have a copy or not?
Cashier: (makes a strangled noise) No?
Cashier: No, we sold it -
Assistant: There's one in the back -
Cashier: (sulkily) Er...it's not really fit to sell, Sir; it's got some box wear.
Assistant: (thumping his crotch) "Box wear"? Since when does a cock-sized hole punched in to the short side-panel count as 'some box wear'?!
Cashier: (hissing at the assistant) Shut up!
Customer: (warily) A 'hole'?
Cashier: Just a small one.
Customer: ...in the side of the box?
Cashier: You'd have to use a baggie, Sir.
Customer: I see.
(cut to: the stock room. It is dimly lit but you can definitely make out the Customer, his back to us and bare-arsed, engaged in a carnal act with an unseen participant)
(cut to: the cashier and assistant leaning against the Stock Room door. The Cashier knocks a couple of times, opens it and peers in)
Cashier: Only another five minutes...oh, you seem to have made that hole much bigger, Sir!
Assistant: Cry Havoc arrives tomorrow!
Cashier: Ooooooooooooh, my throbbing member!
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in an FLGS in a delightful holiday resort; the window display has, wittily, positioned plastic buckets and spades, starfish and jellyfish in between the 'signature' items. Through the door one can see bright sunshine and blue skies. The cashier is sat with a large, edible crab attached to his face with elastic bands. A customer enters, a sandstorm blowing viciously around him - face shrouded in a cloth wrap - and dusts himself down; a fake seagull is attached to his hat)
Bell: (plays The Sleepy Lagoon as glockenspiel chimes)
Cashier: (through the crab) O cah ah oo or oo, er?
Customer: (removes his "amusing bird hat" to reveal a tonsured scalp with some chocolate eggs glued on) I beg your pardon?
Cashier: (pulls the crab away from his face) What can I do for you, Sir?
Customer: (a little confused) What's the crab for, if you don't mind me asking?
Cashier: (wipes away a bit of dribble) We're participating in the town's Grand Carnival Competition: "Spot the Sci-fi reference!"... (he points to the crab)
Customer: (having a light bulb moment) Ah, yes! Of course...Zardoz!
Cashier: (dismissing the hopeless guess) Yes, well, as I say...(replaces the crab) O cah ah oo or oo, er?
Customer: (tugging at his cuffs) Ah, this is a little embarrassing...
Cashier: (removes the crab and places it on the counter) Yeeeeeeees?
Customer: (nervously scratching his nose) ...I'm looking for some 'adult' board games
Cashier: "Adult" board games, Sir?
Customer: Yes. You know? Games with "adult" themes?
Cashier: (cautiously) What...like applying for a mortgage? Getting one's car insured? Arranging a five-course dinner party for eight? We've got "Die Macher", which is about the German Parliament?
Customer: (worrying at his collar) Not that kind of "adult" exactly; more "naughty", really...
Cashier: (stroking his chin momentarily and the speaking up) Oh, you mean "crime" games? Gangsters? We've got "Nothing Personal". "Burgle Brothers" - that sort of thing?
Customer: (blushing) No, adult as in "rude". Rude games?
Cashier: (pensively) Hmmmm...well, I've got a couple of Kickstarter items...
Customer: (perking up) Oh yes?
Cashier: (rummaging under the counter) Yes; they're often quite rude...rough around the edges, some not really even fully play-tested - very 'rude' indeed...
Customer: (getting exasperated) No! "Rude" as in 'sexy'! Games to do with sex!
Cashier: (the penny drops) Oh.
Customer: Saucy games? Cheeky games? Grown-up fayre?
Cashier: (uncomfortably) Well, there's not normally much demand for that kind of thing, Sir.
Customer: (picks up box at random from the shelf) What about this one? (looks at the box) "Stroking Cocks"?
Cashier: That's "Cox" not "Cocks", Sir; and it's a game about the Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race for two players, Sir.
Customer: (disappointed, he picks another) "Fucks Chickens"?
Cashier: "Fox and Chickens", Sir; it's a family classic...
Customer: "Cunt Stop!"?
Cashier: "Can't" as in "cannot", Sir.
Customer: "No Wanks"? "Bum Squad"? Anal Grande?
Cashier: "Thanks", "Bomb" and "Canal" respectively, Sir...
Customer: (deeply disappointed) Dammit! Haven't you got anything filthy at all?
Cashier: (reaching, once more, under the counter) Well...I have got something that involves penetration, bouncing balls and the need for a steady hand if you don't want to come last?
Customer: (delighted) Excellent! I'll definitely take that then!
(cut to the cashier handing a full plastic bag to the customer who, simultaneously, is reciprocating with wad of £20 notes)
Cashier: So, that's one brand new copy of Ker Plunk, Sir. Enjoy!
Customer: (crestfallen) Oh.
Welcome...to my Shed!
(we are in the open gaming area of an FLGS and there are many tables ‘on the go’: see
four two people playing Hanabi while the other two sit, bemused, watching them argue about the best way to give clues; see Game of Thrones, full to capacity - but stalled – because someone mentioned, in passing, that “the books are better than the TV series”; see a five player game of Agricola where three of the players have stood up and pushed their chairs back...things are getting heated)
Player 1: I think we should be allowed to leave this game.
Player 2: (confused) Why?
Player 3: Because I’m deeply concerned about the number of Occupations that are coming in to this game that aren’t ours (points to the others who are standing)
Player 2: So why don’t you take the Start Player and go on ‘Lessons’ yourself?
Player 1: Why should we have to? It’s my game…
Player 3: (supportively) Yeah; it’s his game!
Player 1: (continuing) We should carry on playing the family game rules; it will be less unfair...
Player 2: What about the occupations we’ve already played?
Player 4: Put ‘em back to the game box.
Player 2: But...
Player 3: Yeah! Though we get to keep the resources we’ve already collected, right?
Player 1: Of course we should; it took me ages to accumulate all this wood and stone...
Player 2: If you want to restart the game from scratch then that’s fine but you can’t just change things half way through!
Player 1: Why not?
Player 2: Because it’s a different game with different rules!
Player 1: (clicks fingers and points because he’s just been reminded of something) Oh yeah! About that...
Player 2: About what?
Player 1: The rules: I fundamentally object to being told what to do on my own farm board by a German!
Player 2: (speechless) Er...
Player 3: Yeah! Where does (looks at the rulebook and reads aloud) Uh-wee...Ross...enn...berg get off telling me what I can and can’t do?
Player 2: He designed the bloody game!
Player 1: (outraged) So? Just because his name’s on the box doesn’t mean we have to cow-tow to his every demand! And talking of cows, why can I only have ONE baby even if I’ve got more than one pair of parents? That’s imposing quotas, that is!
Player 2: Those are the rules, mate.
Player 3: (pointing around the table) Doesn’t matter! The three of us think that we should change so you’re out-voted!
Player 2: But you’ll break the game!
Player 1: We don’t know that for sure...
Player 3: ...No-one knows that for sure...
Player 1: ...and, anyway, we could spend the extra food we get from the extra animals on more family members!
Player 3: (under his breath) We could, yes; but I won’t...
Player 2: (exasperated) This is madness!
Player 3: You’re just a sore loser!
Player 1: Yeah – call yourself a democrat! You should accept the majority decision and move on!
(the three standing players move to another table, taking their farm boards and resources with them)
Player 2: (turning to the other, remaining, player) Fancy a game of Isle of Skye? I hear Scotland’s lovely this time of the year...
(there is a shout from the other table)
Player 1: Why won’t you let me put my worker on the ‘Plow 1 Field’ space?
Player 3: Coz that worker was ‘born’ when we were over there (points back the original table); here it’s "new table actions for new table family members", mate!
Player 1: You bigoted bastard! (tips the table and storms out of the shop)
Cashier: (feigning surprise) Well! I never saw THAT coming!
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