Chapter 4
Cold War Part 2
Ah, the games afoot! Once more into the breach will he send his troops, or close up the wall with his Russian dead. To say he wasn’t delighted to be playing Russia was an underestimation on a scale that countries always underestimate how much the Olympics would cost. Every sinew of his existence hated Russia. The real Russia, not the purple blob on the diplomacy board, but this hatred was so all consuming that it spilled over into his game play. When seeing he was assigned Russia he even considered inviting the western powers to take over Ukraine so he could show his solidarity for the current occupants of Ukraine, and Crimea in particular, who were at present under the control of the Communist Oppressors.
There were only two things that he hated more than Russia and they were both called Putin. One was the Russian leader who had, in his eyes, risked the collapse of the Russian (and by extension the world) economy and nuclear war just so he could holiday in a nice little hotel on the Black Sea. The other was Putin who roamed the webDip forum and who tended to best him in any debate they engaged in, ranging from Gaza to world history to favourite pie fillings. On balance he hated the second Putin more and hoped he wasn’t in this game.
All this hatred for everything Russian (save Vodka) suddenly vanished to give way to a new hatred. A hatred of Turkey whom he noticed had finalised his orders without any communication whatsoever. How could this be? Surely they have to discuss a co-ordinated bounce in the Black sea (a move designed to ensure neither pieces move). This could only mean one thing, something so unimaginable that he had to rewind his mind to a time when his pillow case was his best friend called Sabastian and they played with the fairies who had landed from Mars in his back garden. Once his mind was rewound he could just about imagine the concept of what every diplomacy player secretly dreads – a non-talkie.
Diplomacy was created for people to talk to one another. This was how alliances were forged and beautiful friendships were lost forever. To play with someone who never spoke was a complete anathema to the game. He wondered how on earth a non-talkie had acquired enough points to buy in to this high stakes game. The ownership of the site had changed recently from that very nice man Kestas, all hail Kestas, to a new generation; a generation that people suspected might try to make the site commercially viable. Perhaps the new guy had sold off some diplomacy points to this non-talker playing Turkey? If so he would be writing a very long letter of compliant – but that could wait for a while. For now he would compose his treatises to all the other players. These would seek to cover every aspect of the game from before it was invented to planning what to do in the retreat phase of 1908. They would be completely undecipherable and as always he would end up getting killed off early by the other players just trying to shut him up – or he would win when all the other players lost the will to live.
At three in the morning after his last communique had been sent he kissed each of his limited edition Star Wars figures goodnight and snuggled down to a few hours’ sleep.
To be continued…