Oil Is Thicker Than Water

Think it's hardly news anymore that our country has taken a major beating financially with the market price of oil stumbling and sliding down that slippery slope to near oblivion. Hard to open the papers these days without some miserable little imp bringing up the issue of our once honourable ringgit teetering dangerously close to the likes of banana money.

All that however doesn't represent how badly the current near untenable situation has affected the people. Unhappily that's far more apparent in a city that lives and breathes oil - like the one I'm living in right now.

Unlike those heady days several years back when the spirits were buoyed by the unimaginably high oil prices, these days there's a general sense of sad desperation as the once mighty oil and gas conglomerates retreat into financial hibernation leaving the poor, tired, huddled masses in the proverbial cold. Leaves the rest of us all with breath bated wondering what audacious lengths they would go just to make ends meet in these troubling times.

Certainly a sobering thought.

Paul : Time for dinner, no?
Kat : Actually, no. We're heading to the airport.
Madison : And leaving.
Kat : For good.
Paul : What?!
Kat : I figured you didn't handle change well. 

Made considerably worse by the fact that quite a few of my friends are involved in the entire restructuring exercise instituted by the companies here - compelling several to uproot and shift to different bases of operations.

Hence the depressing spate of fare-thee-wells lately.

Though they fortunately didn't just disappear like how I said above. It was certainly a protracted goodbye for weeks - almost months - but it certainly made it even more painful if possible.

So there goes Sober Sam and Kitty Kat sailing off on their next adventure.

Just when we had a regular Scooby gang going on. Sigh.

With my job - and all of theirs - regularly necessitating movement, this has become quite an appalling routine. Don't think I'll ever find it any easier though. After all I'm an old curmudgeon who enjoys being in a deep-old rut for ages. Dull doldrums and regular routines are lovely in my eyes; never did see the joy in having constant change.

Ladies & Gentlemen

The autumn party has come and gone.

Though admittedly most of the ton decided to frolic in the city for the weekend, quite a few had chosen to remain in the country. Certainly enough ladies and gentlemen for a convivial evening of fun and games.

Highlight of the day was of course the rollicking farce that was Ladies & Gentlemen - a seemingly genteel Victorian game of manners which turned out to be quite the opposite as the Ladies turned into nagging shrews while the Gentlemen transformed into boorish tyrants. Game players are assigned to partners as couples - with the husbands heading off to work in the City while the wives spend their pin-money on frocks and feathers.

Obviously all ready to head to the glamourous ball of the social season. The most well bedecked lady is pronounced the belle of the ball and the rest of her rivals would scurry home to their manors to plot delicious revenge.

Perhaps some pin-money for a bit of fluff, m'dear?

Since we already had couples in the room, we decided to switch it up a bit and split everyone up into random pairings which led to quite a lot of hilarious commotion. Charming Calvin found himself matched with Fabulous Felix in an odd pairing of flighty wife / long-suffering husband.

Without a doubt though, there were the usual hysterical termagant wife / suffering henpecked husband pairing as well.

Wife : Are you even working? How can you afford to buy me the dress I want? 
Husband : I'm trying my best! It's hard. 
Wife : Don't whine. Just get to work and make me some money!

Not all the couples were so stereotypical though. Ever the Renaissance man, Sober Sam who espoused a terrifically independent woman found himself wishing he'd gone for someone far more submissive instead.

Sam : Get yourself a dress, woman. 
Wife : It's not worth it. I'll get myself a dress later.  
Sam : Just buy that dress already! I can afford it. 
Wife : Don't waste your money. There are better deals later. 
Sam : I'll get you the dress! You just wear it, dammit!

I was the wife of course. Rather than being typecast as the typical tai-tai, Kitty Kat took the role of my husband. Turns out we made quite the perfect pairing since Kat made quite the killing at the stock markets while I soused out the best bargains at the boutiques - while besmirching the reputations of the other ladies with pointed insults.

Which gains gossip points by the way.

Though I did sometimes slander them just for the fun of it.

The Unworthy Opponent

Let's admit that there's just not that much to do during lazy summer weekends on this side of the Big Puddle. Though the proud little town lays claims to the exalted title of a city, there's really not much on offer when it comes to family fun and social recreation - which is how we all fell into the board gaming hobby by default. Ever since that fateful moment when our gaming fellowship came together, it has been a wild non-stop board game adventure one after the next.

Which is how I like it. For me, playing games is more about the friendly camaraderie than it is about cut-throat victories - hence my long avowed love for convivial cooperative games rather than the cruel, conniving double-crossing bloodbaths much beloved by the likes of Diffident Dan and Mad Madison.

Since he has returned, Charming Calvin has yet to make up his mind on this curious new hobby of ours. Apparently our seemingly antisocial fellow isn't much into cards and board games but we all managed to talk him into trying out a game or two.

Paul : So what did you think?
Calvin : It's an okay game. 
Paul : You like it then?
Calvin : I'm not a natural player. 
Paul : Natural player? 
Calvin : Yeah, I need time to absorb the intricacies of the game, to appreciate the strategies needed to win, to analyze the entire concept. 
Paul : It's a simple card game. It's not all about the winning.
Calvin : But I have to know all that. If not, I would be an unworthy opponent.
Paul : Unworthy?
Calvin : Yes, I might not be worthy of your time and skill as a player. 
Paul : WTF.

Talk about a mind-blowing epiphany since that particularly sage comment certainly explains much about Charming Calvin! And Diffident Dan! Could this be another peculiarly inexplicable foible to differentiate us from our more serious-minded Chinese-educated comrades?

Master : All these unworthy opponents dare to even show their face on the same street?!

Truly. Despite his whimpering claims otherwise, Diffident Dan also takes games quite intensely - almost as if his life might depend on the precarious outcome. At least now we know the real reason behind his befuddling stratagems. Not from a crazed single-minded desire to win but a desperate need to thoroughly redeem themselves in the eyes of their disgruntled companions!

Paul : You mean if you lose, we will all yell  Dishonour on You! Dishonour on Your Family! Dishonour on Your Cow!
Calvin : Yes. Much dishonour. 
Paul : No one does that. Well maybe Sober Sam. But it's just a game. 
Calvin : It's not just a game.  

They simply cannot be seen as an unworthy opponent! The shame! The humiliation! The dishonour!

Master : You were utterly useless during that game. Unworthy of my time and skill, almost an insult to me. Go home before I cut you. 

Like really. Does anyone talk like that in real life? 

Imperial Ascendant

It was certainly a triumphant day for the Imperial forces. 

Not only had we managed to infiltrate the main rebel base on Naboo, we had successfully decimated their pitiful forces and captured most of their recalcitrant local leaders. One of whom was rumoured to be part of the fabled Jedi knights of lore, though I sincerely doubted that grandiose claim. After all Order 66, and the subsequent inquisitions, had sufficiently wiped out the last remnants of those pretentious watchdogs from the Old Republic.

Even those left who had run into hiding would be far too old to be of much use these days. So why had I been dragged out of my comfortable bed in Theed to attend the interrogation of said Jedi Knight? As the Special Imperial Agent appointed to the Monarch of Naboo, theoretically I was supposed to portray the glorified emissary fostering better ties between the newly crowned Queen and the Empire. In reality however, I served the Imperial Security Bureau to rightfully influence the decision-making of the puppet Queen - lest she also fall prey to the rebellious notions of the previous much lamented Queen Apailana.  

Perhaps they might have called on Darth Sade to handle the questioning but few would survive his more sadistic methods of coercion. 

Or even worse, they could have brought in his ruthless apprentice Katrah. If Darth Katrah had been by his side when the rebel base had been attacked, no doubt she would have viciously slaughtered even the handful of rebels we had left. Who could forget her depraved massacre of the Gungan outpost where she had strung up the ill-fated survivors over a fire to roast slowly and painfully. Persistent rumours that she had devoured the charred flesh of the vanquished after were still whispered in a horrified hush around the civilized halls of Naboo. 

Since Katrah hadn't seen any harm in regaling me with that atrocious fact - and had initially compared their flesh to the more gristly ones of the barbecued Mon Calamari, I could readily confirm it. No doubt she had seen the growing horror in my expression marking me as no ally of the predatory Sith. 

It was one of the reasons I had made sure she would remain off-planet during the initial strike on the rebel base. Not that I had any love for the boorish Gungans - or the even more tedious Mon Calamari - but we needed useful information about the rebels after all, and having the entire rebel crew apportioned as a carnivorous buffet would serve more as an encumbrance.

Not exactly the usual role-playing games associated with the Star Wars franchise.

Think my friends Sober Sam and Kitty Kat would much rather be in the thick black robes of the Sith. 

But then again, I doubt I would have fit in all that well with the oh-so-noble aspirations of the fledgling Rebellion. Something tells me I'd probably do better in the aristo-bureaucratic ranks of the stern authoritarian Empire instead; maybe an aspiring male Twi'lek looking out for his own unscrupulous gain in the Imperial Security Bureau?

Unfortunately not all my friends are into dramatic narration. True to their staid engineering calling, most of them generally want to succeed in their appointed mission, exterminate their enemies and achieve their specific goals. Roll dice, kill the baddies and win basically. Something entirely more malleable freestyle and purposefully vague in terms of team objectives like the pen-and-paper roleplaying games, replete with emphasis on non-combative roleplay and creating stories by exploring small towns, talking to the burly barskeep and flirting with the more attractive non-player characters (NPCs), definitely isn't in their gaming repertoire.

Don't even ask the about creating a character's background. Of course something tells me my somber, goal-oriented niece isn't all that big on spinning stories either. Future engineer perhaps?

So far our few experimental turns at pen-and-paper role playing goes something like this.

Paul : So there is a lone bandit standing in front of the den? 
Gamemaster : Yes, and he's smoking a joint.
Paul : I would approach him and try to charm him into telling me more. Maybe score a joint from him. Hope he's cute.
Gamemaster : Interesting approach but you have plenty of charm and presence. Roll the dice. 
Paul : Sure. 
Gamemaster : Looks like you just might make it. So the bandit smiles and talks to you - 
Madison : What's with all the talking! Let's get on with the battle. I'll just punch him.  
Sam : Let me throw my sword at his damned face. 
Paul : He was about to tell me something!
Madison : Let's storm the den and kill everyone!

So obviously there isn't much chance of continuing the story with most of the NPCs stabbed repeatedly with sabers. Makes me miss my role-playing schooldays of playing vengeful priests and slutty assassins in the most demented imbroglios ever.

Braving the Big Black

Though I prefer cooperative games with my friends, sometimes I don't have much choice but to take a solo flight. With my work schedule a bit more uncertain compared to the rest of the regular nine-to-fivers in my gaming crew, I do have a few games set aside to play on my own.

One based on what's surely the biggest scifi television series ever to be cancelled after one sad, desperately-missed meagre debut season. Firefly of course.

For the sadly uninitiated, Firefly is a short-lived yet much-loved series about a space western drama in the future when China and America rule the roost following the adventures of a motley renegade crew on the ship Serenity; all covering the various characters you'd probably find traipsing around the space frontier from the likes of a heroic cowboy captain to an elegant witty Companion, from the brash lawless mercenary to the urbane young surgeon. All seemingly flat cookie-cutter tropes for a typical Western till you've caught more than one thrilling episode!

Unfortunately they only made thirteen episodes to cherish - which is thankfully more than enough to inspire a board game for the show.

Just a standard pick-up and deliver game across the known Verse with our cunningly crafted little Firefly-class ships. Mine's a sweet lil cocoa number called Yun Qi 运气; sure doesn't seem like much but with an enhanced graviton accelerator for a drive core, the crew manages to finish the deliveries damned fast no matter how far. Which helps matters a bit since my crew tends to stay on the straight and narrow, picking up jobs only from the more legal side of the Verse with very few instances of misbehavin'.

A pity since we do have a fully equipped medical bay - and the stoically sexy Dr Simon Tam -on the ship ready to deal with emergencies.

Yes, we know you're real smart and all - but I'd still prefer ya nekkid on my bed. 

And if jobs are slim pickins along the way, there's no fear as I have a ship full of licensed Companions on board as well, all ready to service respectable clients on the more hospitable planets. Not to mention the occasional disgruntled crew member but let's keep that on the down low, shall we? Of course, those who don't exactly follow the series wouldn't find it hilarious to have an entire ship of nubile Companions - and the oh-so-proper Simon Tam - traverse the Verse together.

Well who knows the good doctor could pick up a few skills along the way.

Flying Yun Qi alone at home definitely inspired me to make crew cards of my own to supplement the one at hand. After all there's a real need to increase the Asian influence in the game. Perhaps a more fun-loving doctor / companion of Chinese descent? Someone who looks like Godfrey Gao? Endless possibilities I tell ya.

For those who still can't get enough of Firefly goodness, there's even an online strategic role-playing game coming up soon!

Off On Scampering Feet

Which is no small feat, I tell ya. When you stand barely yea high - only a couple of inches tall! - just a simple stroll across a crowded kitchen turns into a dangerous battlefield of rapacious roaches and rabid rats. Not to mention the occasional roving feline.

But that's what happens when you've been turned - rather unwillingly - into a brave band of mighty mice by the confused antics of a muddle-headed magician who obviously didn't know better! All in a chapter's work for the Mice and Mystics.

Gotta admit my group of friends didn't expect to love this narrative game quite as much, since how much could we possibly get out of a bunch of rodents running about searching for cheese? As it turns out, that's only a tiny part of the entire saga if the adventure's played well enough.

What? You want to turn us into mice?! Are you crazy high on something, sorcerer?

And it all starts with a brave prince finding his ailing father ensnared in the beguiling wiles of a scheming witch named Vanestra. Tossed into the dungeon with the rest of his loyal compatriots, they could find no other way to escape than to turn into hardy - and obviously minuscule mice. Armed with their trusty weapons - and whatever sharp kitchen utensils they can find, they brave their way through the suddenly gargantuan palace to unravel the evil plot of Vanestra.

Now doesn't that just sound like an epic in the making? Of course when it comes to my group of players, we tend to casually meander away from our main mission. Guess I do play to type since I usually gravitate to healer type of characters.

Paul : Man, my monk is obviously quite blind. Whenever he searches, he comes up with nothing.
Kat : Isn't your character female?
Paul : Ah that's what they think! Teddy was a foundling brought up in the Convent of St Luke and the Mother Superior hid his gender from everyone - since the note that came with his cradle claimed that there were some who wanted him dead - by dressing him up as one of the nuns. Along with the note came the Mace of Malice which grows stronger with blood spilled, one of the heirlooms from his wicked family. But I guess he doesn't know that yet. 
Kat : Wow, that's complex. 
Paul : And he's gay. 
Kat : No wonder Teddy's trying to hit on my sexy yet commitment-phobic Filch the Thief. Blame it on a lifetime on the run after being shunted from one crappy orphanage to the next. 
Sam : Both of you are gonna get stabbed by elite monster rats. Get back to the game!

Clearly the character Sober Sam plays doesn't have much of a background detailing his whims and ambitions - but we're always glad to make one up for him!

Gameplay certainly reminds me of a new fave, the beautifully sketched and compiled graphic novels by David Petersen which is the Mouse Guards.

If you haven't read it, you must.

Vive la Famille

Surely the ambitious motto of my aspiring family patriarch - though I'm sure the much exploited grandchildren don't think much of his grand designs. But when it comes to an aspiring famille hoping to leave a lasting legacy during the baffling upheavals of the French Revolution, can you blame the determined fellow?

Which is basically the theme of our latest game. Legacy: The Testament of Duke de Crecy lets us step into the shoes of an upwardly mobile French noble in 1729 and compete for lasting honour by establishing a powerful dynasty with marriage ties to many different wealthy and powerful families.

Years back as a kid playing endless reruns of largely competitive games such as Risk and Monopoly with my brother, I already surrendered myself to the notion that such games obviously weren't suited to my taste. Barbaric hordes tearing across borders to plunder and pillage simply isn't my idea of fun.

Evidently I tend to lean towards thematic cooperative games with lots... and lots of witty narrative. So a game such as Legacy where gambling on the fickle vagaries of the marriage market ( like my all-time favourite Georgette Heyer regencies ) forms the basis of the game sounds made for me. Just imagine Crusader Kings with the endless Machiavellian manipulations of the hapless family members but without the blood-soaked warmongering on a mini board game.

Which is what I immediately set out to do as the future Count Philippe of Malacca. Though resources were few for his family wasn't all that well-to-do, he managed to gain the hand of the far more politically astute courtesan Arianne. Fortunately despite the unpredictable medical facilities of those times, a string of successful pregnancies ensued with a handful of promising though oddly identical offspring - Patric, Paul and Paige.

Philippe : Well congratulations, you survived the birth without complication.
Arianne : You were hoping otherwise?
Philippe : Did you expect bouquets? There's no love lost between us after all.
Arianne : You would have carried on the affair with the handsome footman from Provence?
Philippe : Certainement! Well I might have publicly mourned for a week. And fucked him thoroughly in private.
Arianne : Before searching for a new bride the week after?
Philippe : You know me too well.  

Feeling that times would be getting better despite noble heads getting summarily lopped off at the bloody guillotine, Philippe purchased a grand title for himself along with a gracious country chateau. After all where else could he throw his grand fetes to beguile high society. Along the way his socialite wife eagerly arranged advantageous marriages for his children. Even a match where poor Paige was sacrificed to a petty court blackmailer - who nonetheless, through whatever nefarious means, brought in several influential friends to the social circle - which paved the way for her more fortunate brother Paul, then the city mayor of Paris, to be engaged to a lovely Castillian princess.

Things looked up with the third generation as one grandson attained the status of a Duke while another granddaughter married a finance minister's son. The rest Philippe bartered off for whatever benefits they brought to the family - though one handsome suitor caught his eye... well just because.

Certain patriarchal entitlements Philippe surely didn't see fit to share with the rest of his family.

Philippe : The son of a mere baron for our beloved granddaughter Patience! My dear, you are certainly addled. I see at least one hunchback duke and two cross-eyed ministers who would be more advantageous.
Arianne : Take a good look at the boy before you judge.
Philippe : Vraiment! I finally see his undeniable charms. Certainly gifted. Now that's a virile stallion I would be glad to introduce into my stables.
Arianne : At least wait till after the wedding, my dear.
Philippe : Certainement!

Perpetually trying to gain more prestige along the way as the family picks up advantageous alliances. With a penchant for marrying intellectuals and scholars, soon enough the family gained the attention of Madame de Pompadour who became the family patroness.

Which is more than I can say for my lesser-connected rival families, one of whom had a motley crew of butchers, maids and stableboys in their hodge-podge lineage. Even a wandering Cossack! How shockingly bourgeouis!

Return of the Sims

Guess you can call the game of Sims a largely harmless escapist fantasy. Gives all of us an avenue to escape from the dull humdrum of our everyday existence. Ever dream of being a courageous firefighter? Ever dream of being the perfect 1950s housewife?

Or in my case, dreams of being a sociopathic passive-aggressive homewrecker Casanova.

Turns out it has been more than a year since I last played the game! So what better way to celebrate my purchase of a spanking new iPad than downloading one of my favourite micromanagement games. Unfortunately not fully developed in HD yet - get on it already developers!

Still gives me a chance to live out my fantasy though.


Waitaminute, did I woo hoo with this strapping fellow already? I really need to start keeping track.
Think Wisteria Lane. A typical conversation with my Sim character that happens in my games translated from babbling Simlish of course.

Jill : How dare you come into my house again, you creep!
Paul : To use your well-appointed bath of course. Your husband so loves that lovely musky scent that you bought. On me.
Jill : How dare you! He's my husband!
Paul : Highly closeted. Couldn't keep his hands off me. Why, we've even done it in your bedroom.
Jill : You did the woo hoo with my husband?!
Paul : Yes. Leave him already!
Jill : No, I won't!
Paul : Then take this slap from me!
Jill : Ouch!
Paul : And another slap!
Jill : Ouch.
Paul : Dammit. Why can't I stab you with the knife?
Jill : It's not a violent game!
Paul : Eh, since I'm already holding the knife, I'm going to raid your fridge and cook a meal.
Jill : Get out of my house now!
Paul : Kicking me out won't stop me from coming back now that your husband's my partner.
Oh yes, my shockingly attractive though morally ambiguous lab assistant has been having a torrid affair with Jack, that sexy silver-haired fox of a politician. Obviously much to the dismay of his long-suffering dutiful wife Jill - who gets regular physical abuse in the form of daily slaps from me.

Just because.

If that's not soap opera enough, I'm also having a daily woo hoo visits from my hunky blond colleague Johnny. And Jake. And Walter. Yes, I am playing quite a reprehensible character, I know.


Yup, plenty of the above going on. As if you needed another reason to love the game, the developers have always shown their unwavering wholehearted support for alternative sexualities. Not only can gay men get married, they can adopt and have children.

And obviously have plenty of woo hoo.

BTW did I mention Facebook is beta-testing Sims right now? :)

Sims It Is

Ah, technology. Far from the bland, cookie-cutter Sims of yesteryear, the characters we play on Sims 3 these days can be individually customized right down to the curl of the eyelash.

Hell, you can even pick out the colour of his earring if that's what you want.

Haven't had the opportunity to pick up the game since the debut last year since I've been busy with final exams, moving to a different city and all. Fortunately Charming Calvin picked up that particular gaming slack and has been playing the game semi-regularly ever since. Even created an alternative family led by a gay couple called the Weis family.

To describe the game as being a virtual dollhouse would be oversimplifying things. My fave part of the game is obviously the Create-A-Sim bit. Tells quite a lot about a person, I think. We're all given a list of traits to pick from for our characters - but somehow we all tend to gravitate to what we know best. An ideal sim of ourselves.


Artistic
Bookworm
Ambitious
Good sense of humour
Athletic
Artistic and Bookworm is obviously self-explanatory since I couldn't possibly imagine life without art or books. Even on my Sims.

Why Ambition? Just look at the grotty lil bedsit they start with! Certainly wouldn't want my Sim character to live in a pathetic little lot forever so I figured a bit of ambition wouldn't be amiss. At least work hard enough to afford some charming wallpaper to appease his artistic tastes!


Now who wouldn't want to control him!
Obviously far from Athletic myself - can't catch a ball to save my life! - but I figured I wouldn't want my Sim to turn into a lazy, disfigured schlub. Hoped the Athletic trait would at least help him run circles around tracks and randomly toss balls about. Just to give him a leg up in life, of course I made him a Daniel Wu lookalike to start with.

Though I was seriously tempted to replace the Athletic with the Evil trait.

Evil Sims love the dark, take great delight in the misfortune of others and prefer to lead a life of as far away from goodness as possible
Think I would have slid down that slippery dark path if I hadn't had a lamentable conscience of course. Stealing candy, blowing up stores and randomly running down prams. Just listen to what Eartha Kitt has to say about it.



Now I'm wondering what kinda traits Calvin picked for his Sims.

The Deaths of Laura Bow

The museum's already deserted with the clock struck past midnight a little while back. There's a sudden chill in the air and I can't help but recall the headless body pierced through the back by a pterodacytyl. A vicious killer's loose in the corridors of the Leyendecker Museum - so it's all I can do not to scream hysterically even as I keep uncovering more corpses in each subsequent chamber. Always one step behind.

Who else will die tonight?
Oh yes, somehow I've managed to get this ancient DOS-based game running on the computer. If I remember correctly, this game used to come in a stack of disks or so to be inserted after each act. And now it fits into such an amazingly tiny file! Seriously I have work presentations that are larger in size.

Such a classic. Ah, Laura Bow intrepid girl detective, I remember her well. Just out of college, this hotshot cub reporter gets quickly entangled in an intriguing Egyptian mystery-murder in the Roaring Twenties. The games that my ISO and I played back in school. How can I possibly forget the number of times we replayed the various scenes in Laura Bow's Dagger of Amon-ra! Seemed almost impossible to surmount the preposterous obstacles without a simple walkthrough ready - though I sternly kept reminding my frustrated ISO not to succumb to that ignoble temptation.


Even an act as simple as crossing the road seemed an impossible task.

My ISO : Muthafucka. We got hit by a cab again.
Paul : Maybe we should make a run for it.
My ISO : The bloody cab's too damned fast. And this is the twenties!
Paul : I blame those heels!
Evidently you're supposed to hail a taxi instead. You can imagine how many times Laura turned into roadkill on her first day before we accidentally stumbled on the required solution.

And the number of insignificant items you have to pick up along the way ( e.g. dinosaur bone, cheese ) to place inside what I've termed Laura's otherdimensional purse. That only makes sense way down the line as you face a bunch of carnivorous rats.


What's a murder-mystery without a love interest?

Oh yes I had such an early crush over dreamy redhead Steve Dorian! Certainly would have pushed Laura into a steaming vat of industrial chemicals to get him. Or perhaps a more elegant death in keeping with the other grisly murders in the game.


Our reimagined Steve Dorian! Buffer than I recall!
Had such a great time reminiscing with Laura that I had to keep my ISO abreast with my replay. Surprisingly his mental faculties still in working order, he immediately recalled the game and picked up the game as well. The internet really has made the world that much smaller!

My ISO : Have you gotten to the museum yet?
Paul : I have! OMG. That man's fallen over a stuffed porcupine.
My ISO : Eeew. Have you reached that French skank yet?
Paul : The slutty Yvette who's after my Steve?
My ISO : I think Steve Dorian spoiled us for other men.
Paul : Oh so true. Feel like stabbing Yvette with a pterodactyl.
My ISO : Think you gotta pry it off Ziggy first.
Paul : Maybe I'll plaster her into a statue.
My ISO : I think someone thought of that already.
Oh yes, did I mention the murders get progressively more gruesome as the game continues? And we used to play the game pitch-dark at midnight :)

Scarlet Tears on Cherry Blossoms

For those who are starting to believe that I might be the living incarnation of evil, you might not be too far from wrong. Not only have I started enjoying the far-from-innocent delights of Trapt, I have started out on an entirely new and far more nefarious mission.

Imagine seemingly serene 18th Century Japan with innocently wandering geishas in their pastel-coloured kimonos, pretty as cherry blossoms in the the height of spring, giggling as they charmingly tiptoe past the grinning gentlemen loitering in front of the many teahouses.


Here I come to spoil the day!
Then here comes me, the big bad Scorpion Samurai swaggering into town with my charmingly decorated Noh mask and unfortunately my far-less-charming gleaming ten-foot blade of burning death. And soon for no apparent reason ( other than some mild irritation over their good-hearted cheeriness ), the giggling geishas find themselves unwitting victims of an unprovoked assault, sliced and diced to pieces with their blood splattering the wooden screens while the stunned gentlemen find themselves struggling to keep their bowels from spilling out of their gaping abdomens while wriggling desperately on my stained sword. Grisly but true.

And in the Way of the Samurai, not only can we go about decapitating wayward European tourists with impunity ( who have an odd but extremely apt tendency to babble endlessly about harakiri ), we can also go local by randomly slaughtering umbrella-wielding Anglophile Japanese women, dismembering boring, chattering magistrates and slashing unfortunate herbalists - not to mention doing a dazzling three combo move on a trio of weight-challenged gossipy washerwomen.

Scorpion Samurai : Wash my undergarments, woman! What do you mean you think I'm the evil ronin slaughtering innocents? How dare you make such an accusation! Taste my blade!
The life of the Samurai is often one of modesty, patience, and discipline, but this game simply debunks all that since this is one game where free will reigns - a bloody reign though it might be. Refreshingly, based on the decisions that are made, we get to see different story sequences, battles, and characters. Shockingly almost anything goes. Short of physically accosting other characters in an amorous manner ( oddly Puritanical this game ), nothing seems to be sacred in this free-form, non-linear game. Holier-than-thou paragons would probably help the innocent and the poor while upholding truth, justice and the little japanese hamlet way - but servants of the dark side such as myself just thrive on chaos, mayhem - and the occasional screeching washerwoman disemboweled and hung on the clotheslines.

Scorpion Samurai : What do you mean my clothes aren't ready yet? Dry THIS!
Of course as in real life, in no time we start developing distressingly menacing reputations in the small village ( with the sadly depleting population ) and everyone is soon gunning for our blood ( usually the local village thugs ) - or else scurrying helter skelter at the sight of us ( geishas and other assorted gentlemen ). Which means sharpening our blades and swordsplay - and even more bloodshed.

Charming Calvin is getting really worried these days.