“Nothing much need be said. I rolled three fours when it came time to pick our colours, cards and place men. I told those assembled the game was over then, but they insisted on playing for five hours when the result was already determined. I cannot blame them for wanting to witness my greatness, I suppose. The only blemish on this night was that my thunder was stolen by a charlatan who had the honour of rolling the 10,000th recorded six against me. I may have been last to attack, but after weathering an early onslaught so fierce I half believed Jamie was playing, I ended up being the last man standing, even after four Hell's Gate beers. I would be remiss not to give credit where credit is due and note that Sheldon started the night off with a touch of class by providing his guests with a sniff of 12-year-old Glenfiddich. The gesture was appreciated by at least one guest, even if the advance/retreat modifications were not.”
“1, 2...hmph, shoulda been 4, 5. What a strange game. My tide turned when I put on my jacket and sunglasses. Devin's changed when Jon decided not to take over the wide open continent of Asstralia....”
“I think I understand how this game works now...I need to whine about how much I've been attacked in the first round, then everybody leaves you alone. I police the board once and get fucked over for doing everyone a favour. Turtle strategy will come out next game. Who cares about Australia. I don't give a fuck about continents. Next game it's one country, add 3, end turn. Repeat 40 times. I seem to remember Marty doing this once or twice. Big army, no cards! Attack me then, bitches! While I'm here waiting for this game to end, I think I have enough time to write a new CBA for the NHL. Can't be that hard....”
