Written Oct 1999 for the icsf newsletter while I was living in the icsf flat with a handful of then committee members

An Average Night

*The identities have been protected, but they're not difficult to work out. Consider it a challenge to Freshers.*

Around the table they sat, three people worshipping pieces of cardboard and paper clips. Muttering words that were incomprehensible to me, tap, drakes, slivers, manna and phasing. All perfectly reasonable words in their own rights but used here in some strange context. They mutter, grumble, pout and sulk when another competitor does something. Gloat, smile and look smug when they are the perpetrators of some evil deed, while trying not to offend their friend.

I briefly consider paying attention to their activity, feeling slightly left out of this social activity. But I quickly come to my senses, let's remember what it is they're doing!

'A' starts querying the rules, wanting to know the smallest detail, which will allow him to form a strategy. Player 'B' sits quietly guarding her cards, being inconspicuous. Player 'C' looks thoughtful, quoting rules and recognised tactics. 'A' attempts to reason that 'C' has an unfair advantage, as he owns the sets they are using. 'C' naturally tries to explain that he doesn't, but to me at least it sounds forced.

Ahh.. now it begins, following the usual pattern. Player 'C' claims he is being picked on, then does something evil. Almost as if he was justifying his actions to the others. This is the problem with playing games like this against friends. Next stage has been reached, following his evil moves, player 'A' has said, "growl, hate player 'C', attack him with a spider". Player 'C' merely laughs quietly, bouncing slowly along to the CD.

Suddenly it's all over, Player 'C' resigns, quickly followed by 'B'. 'A' apparently got a very impressive card out, and they were not going to give him the satisfaction of killing them all, which seems a bit mean to me. I doubt the competition ends here, and I'm right. Decks are changed (something about chickens?!?!) and another game begins. Brief sing along to the CD while cards are shuffled (The Monkees Greatest Hits, much goodness).

I seem to have been found out, I sat down to write a story for the fanzine, but my imagination (as usual) came up a little short, and real life seemed far more interesting. Player 'A' argues the rights of an editor to reject stories and alter them, debating policy as usual. Player 'B' remains quiet; smiling at the discussion as it goes on around her. Player 'C' discusses editorial policy with 'A', pointing out that we are rather short of submissions. I've declared that anything that is untrue can be removed, whose version of the truth is used I didn't say.

The game commences, Player 'A' says he thinks of the opposition as potential enemies, player 'C' says that he considers them potential allies, 'B's' reply to that is "yeah right". 'C' has just noticed the bits of gold on the coffee table (my coffee table, I might add) which he put there last week, while gilding a wooden cow. The claims of the society's randomness are far from exaggerated!

They've been quiet for a bit, either self conscious because they are aware I'm watching and writing about them, or because they're quietly plotting against their friends. Then player 'C' picks up a card, grinning and quietly chuckling to himself. 'A' points out that something bad is likely to happen very soon. 'C', doing a remarkable impression of 'B', remains quiet.

I've just pointed out to them (after being falsely accused) that I'm not being abusive, merely describing events. 'C' points out that this in itself could be quite offensive. I feel that at this point I must point out that these people are some of the nicest and best friends I've ever had and IC would be a much duller place without them. I write this as an introduction to some of the principal characters on this corner of the stage of life called the ICSF committee. They are the people you might meet, as your wings; wings beat down Pigeon Street. See I can be as random as the rest of them!

Back to events. There is much quiet plotting going on. After the previous fairly violent short game, this seems to be turning into a longer strategic affair. Cards spread out over the table, paperclips piling up, people shuffling through fans of cards held in their hands. Apparently a giant chicken has just been brought into play and 'A' has just picked up a card and declared that "grooviness has just happened", then he attacks 'B' with some spirits. Player 'C' laughs as 'A' and 'B' study their cards, working things through, something about killing Griffins and blocking something. I'm proud not to understand. Player 'C' points out that while they play magic, I do like Star Trek a lot, we all have our weaknesses.

Someone just said something about smegging chickens and shagging dragons, I give them a look of disbelief which 'C' describes as "faintly disturbed"; 'B' and I jointly query the "faintly" part. They're now discussing something about denim wars, which involves A taking his jeans off. Now they're trying to stop a 4-4 chicken. Help?!

'B' has apparently started playing offensively using an archangel with protection from red and black, mean anything to anyone? 'C' is going "Eep" repeatedly while describing what 'B' has just done, 'A' is just saying "we're going to die" repeatedly under his breath. Oh, and apparently chickens don't fly just sit on the floor going cluck. So there you go. Player 'C' is now sulking, while 'A' is looking at his options in despair, incidentally 'C' is still eeping and meeping. Discussing adding a 'meep' card to the list of suggested ICSF cards. The meep, for those of you that weren't privileged enough to come to the ICSF flat last year, is a large purple fluffy puppet type thing. 'A' attacks 'C', as he has nothing else to do, 'A' declares that they are all dead, 'C' mutters about needing a giant chicken, something about headless chickens treading on people?

Despite their apparent imminent death, they are still fighting back, and player 'C' prods player 'A' who then attempts to take his jeans off. He is dissuaded from doing so, something about wearing a skirt in future, dragons in tutus and removing player 'B's' skirt. (And you thought it couldn't get any weirder!) Players 'B' and 'C' are 'larting' each other, while 'A' lies on the floor staring at the ceiling.

'B' has apparently played something called 'congregate' and has gained many paperclips (apparently a good thing). 'C' hits her over the head with a cushion, screeches and drops his cards on the floor. Despite an apparently powerful hand, or table of cards, she still doesn't attack anyone, much to 'C's' irritation. Some may say she doesn't have a malicious (thanks to the random drunk in the corner for the word, another flatmate who's just arrived) bone in her body. I'm not so sure, and I'm certainly not going to piss her off!

'C' is playing something about wranglers which investigate 'A's' jeans, this causes 'A' to lose some paperclips and recite bad song lyrics. And the innuendoes continue 'A' declares 'B' is giving everyone a damn good whipping. More attacking of jeans, and more loss of paperclips. As far as I can gather 'A' and 'C' are attacking each other hoping that 'B' will choose to attack the other. 'C' is clucking quietly to himself, while 'A' tries to convince 'B' to attack them and get it over with. She advises them to surrender, trying to avoid playing offensively. 'C', who has stopped clucking, attacks something unsuccessfully then sulks, swears and growls at his deck.

Considerable randomness is taking place during 'C's' turn, chicken tapping, dice rolling, "+1 on all chickens", "trying for chicken eggs", and something about free-range chickens. Excitement! A 12-12 chicken attacks a giant archangel belonging to 'B'. Now it gets really confusing with, various numbers being quoted which leads to... absolutely no effect! Player 'C' announces he is going to sit and breed chickens, 'A' sulks, and 'B' complains about people throwing giant killer chickens at her.

'B' has apparently just reached 'godhood' by playing 'congregate' and obtaining about 50 life, but there aren't enough paperclips. 'C' finally uses the giant chickens he's been growing, and lobs them at 'A' but is unable to kill him. 'C' realises he's almost out of cards and is about to throw mad chickens at 'B'. She has just played another congregation and gone up to about 150 life (apparently a record, woo!). 'C' meanwhile apparently has a 22-22 chicken and is attacking 'A' again, who is still not dead.

Player 'C' has played a 17 hurricane (or something) and killed quite a lot of stuff. Now 'C's' entire hand is attacking 'B' and there is considerable thought about what is being blocked and what's not. 'A' is making continuous comments, none of which are witty enough to be typed up, sorry. 'C' appears to have done quite a lot of damage to 'B' and advises 'A' to attack 'B'. 'A' does so, and... has very little effect. 'B' however seems to have decided to attack 'C's' largest chicken before it attacks her. A little harsh maybe as 'C' only has one turn left before he runs out of cards. 'A' and 'C' make various comments about chickens being eaten, going to great farm in sky and finish with a quick sing of "I feel like chicken tonight", god help us!

And still the game drags on, and on. I begin to wonder if it will ever finish and I'll ever get to sleep. I originally thought this piece would only last a side or so. But it seems cruel to leave you ignorant of the end of the game. 'C's' chickens are now dead, fricasseed, etc as he's out of cards. 'A' launches an all out attack on 'B' but to not much avail.

'B' has finally decided to attack, seeing as 'C' is out, and the only way the game is gonna finish this side of the millennium is for her to kill 'A'. She manages to return all his creatures to his deck, then attacks him again and kills him. A stunning anti-climax to the game. But 'B' is victorious, as they say; it's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

Here closes this vignette (pretty word, that I've never had opportunity to use before). I doubt this is the end of the evening; the night is but young, it being only 1 o'clock or so. But the players in this tale are clamouring to see it. I hope they and you take it for what it is, an attempt to allow people to have a glimpse at the world that is the ICSF flat, from a safe distance. I strongly recommend you get to know these people, they make life interesting! Add a little randomness to your life.