Tag: games

It’s All Fun and Games Until a Viking Starts Cheating!

Since the weather was shit this weekend and we didn’t feel like sitting out in freezing temperatures and drizzle, we opted to amuse ourselves inside.  And what better way to amuse ourselves than engaging in Stabby Sports – Darts, for the less stabby people.

The Viking is far better at Stabbing than I am – it’s probably a Viking thing.  He’s so good that he gives me a substantial handicap to try to even up the odds – the first one to 301 points wins and the last stab has to be on a double.  Except for me…..I don’t need to hit a double because we both recognize that just hitting the dart board is an achievement.

So, I made myself a Lemon Gin and Tonic and he indulged in Beer with Clamato Juice and we picked up our darts.  I went first.

Me (throws darts):  Oooooo……that’s a 43!

The Viking (throws):  What the fuck?!  3?

Me (shaking imaginary Pom-Poms):  Oooooo….nice job!  Keep up the good work.

The Viking:  Just throw your darts.

Me:  Wow!  That’s a 47….best score so far!

The Viking (throws his darts):  For fucks sake!  9?

Me (dancing like a witch at the Spring Solstice celebrations):  YES!!

The Viking:  Pfft!

Me (throws):  WooHoo!  64!!  Has the student surpassed the Master?  (Evil laughter)

The Viking:  19 for fucksake!  And you had better watch out, Karma is going to get you.

Me (shrugging philosophically):  Of course it is.  It always gets you in the end, but I will dance with the Devil until it does.  Besides…..I prefer to celebrate my wins when I can because you know it only takes one throw and you’re on top again.

The Viking:  Throw your darts!

Me:  37!

The Viking (glaring at the dart board and then adjusting it):  This thing has moved to the right.  Why does it always do that?

The Viking (throws his darts):  113.

Me:  What the fuck?!  I find it highly suspicious that you suddenly throw 113 AFTER you adjusted the board.  I want to go to the Official for a decision.

The Viking:  What official?

Teddy wanders by.

Me:  Teddy!  The Viking is cheating!

Teddy:  Are you talking to me?

Me:  Yes!  The Viking is cheating.  He adjusted the dartboard and now he gets 113 points in a single turn.  I need you to sanction him by 100 points.

Teddy:  You don’t happen to have any treats, do you?  I find it difficult to make informed decisions when my stomach is rumbling.

Me (giving him treats):  Okay.  Now rule and force him to subtract 100 points as his penalty.

Teddy (licking lips):  I don’t really understand the rules so I’m just going outside to patrol the perimeter.

Me:  Turncoat.

Teddy (shrugging):  I bet you regret blaming that fart on me last night.

The Viking (singing):  Karrrrrmaaa

Me (throwing my darts):  15.  I blame you for this.  You ‘adjust’ the board and suddenly the whole game is rigged in your favour.  I’m pretty sure that’s against some sort of ‘Viking Code of Honour’.  Before we play again I’m going to install a proper Official.  One that you haven’t paid off.

The Viking (throws):  92

Me:  29

The Viking stepped up to the line, assumed his Dart-Throwing Stance and took aim.  And then………….. “Ouch!  What the fuck?!  Did you just stab my ass with your dart?!

Me (straight face):  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Maybe someone has a VooDoo doll under her desk.  And even if she does, you deserve it for cheating.

The Viking:  I’m not cheating.  The board had moved.

The Viking assumes the Stance again and tries to aim but, clearly, he’s nervous because I’m petting one of my Darts and testing the sharpness of the point.  He tries again and then laughs when I kiss it ever so gently.

Finally…..

Me:  The unknown person, or persons, with the VooDoo doll is probably satisfied with just the one poke so you can relax.  Everyone knows it’s only funny once.

He smoked me in that game.  And the next game.  I won the third game, purely by accident when I blundered into a triple 19 and two other high points.  That deserved a celebratory Turkey Dance!  In reality though, I couldn’t hit what I was aiming at to save my life.  If we ever had to defend ourselves against our Enemies* with nothing but darts, I could maybe hit the attacker but it’s anyone’s guess whether it would be with the pointy end or not.

So, it’s a good thing that I don’t take Stabbing very seriously.  I go in knowing the odds of winning are close to zero.  And that’s okay with me.

Besides, it’s all fun and games until a Viking starts cheating.

*Not that we have Enemies.  At least I don’t think we have Enemies, but who knows?  There might be someone out there with less than warm feelings for us but that just means we need to be careful about telling new people our real names and hope everyone else has forgotten already.  

The Viking’s Stabby Sport

When it comes to recreational activities, I choose them carefully, based entirely on the potential for humiliation or injury.  And in the age of smart phones with good cameras, my humiliation won’t be limited to just a few lucky by-standers but could be posted to Youtube before I get finished dusting my pants off.

So, when The Viking first mentioned how much he enjoyed playing Darts I was, understandably, alarmed.  Playing Darts involves stabby things and that’s never a good idea for me.  You would think The Viking would know this by now – we’ve already established that I shouldn’t play with fire, automatic weapons, or knives.  As much as I would love to Fence, we all know that I would fumble the Foil and fall on it in a weird kind of Japanese ritual OR fumble the Foil and accidentally stab an observer.  It’s just in everyone’s best interest to keep stabby things out of my hands.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that a Viking would like a Stabby Sport because it’s kind of in their genes, along with boating activities and looting churches.  To be fair though, I haven’t heard of any recent looting or even pillaging, so everyone should stay calm.

Anyway, The Viking hung up a Dart Board, gave me a Gin and Tonic*, handed me the stabby things and said, “Let’s play!”  Obviously, his enthusiasm for the sport over-rode his better judgment.

Of the first 6 Darts I threw, 3 missed the board and stabbed the wall, I dropped one which nearly impaled my right foot, one bounced off the cabinet and almost stabbed the cat, one stabbed my left boob and one hit the Bullseye.

I gave The Viking a look.

via GIPHY

Truth be told, it went better than I anticipated.  By the time we closed the cabinet there were only 6 stab holes in the wall, the cats were happily unstabbed, and the wound to my Jugular Vein was only superficial.

It’s still a good idea to have the First Aid Kit handy though, in case The Viking wants a rematch.

 

*What the fuck?!  The potential for a catastrophic event triples as soon as you give me booze.

Wrestling, Depression and Pokémon Go!

There has been a Wrestling Match going on in our house for a few weeks now. Silently and without much grunting, groping or scrabbling. Also, I’m not wearing the skin-tight, elastic short thingy that is the necessary costume for Wrestling, apparently, and neither is The Viking. You’re welcome, neighborhood. So, I suppose it’s less of a Wrestling Match and more of a Non-Wrestling Match.

In one corner of the Wrestling Ring that I have metaphorically commandeered for our Non-Wrestling Match is The Viking. He’s squirrelly and stir-crazy and in desperate need of getting outside and having a party or going on a motorcycle ride or doing anything besides sitting in the house binge-watching television series-es. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, arms flopping loosely at his sides, head bopping like a boxer….or a Non-Wrestler….eager for the bell.

Continue reading “Wrestling, Depression and Pokémon Go!”