Don’t go in there! Hans’s game of Medieval: Total War has spun into a harrowing Caligula-like descent into debauchery!
STAY BACK, man! Just stay away from the whole upstairs! Last night Hans started a game of Medieval: Total War on “Expert” difficulty. We all assumed that he’d be crushed within two generations, and -- perhaps shortsightedly -- we mocked him and his pitiful two-province empire.
Round about 2 AM he had managed to conquer Russia. “Napoleon and Hitler failed where his Eminence the Almighty Hans succeeded!” he cried out, banging his fists on the desk. By four AM he was howling and cackling as he waged war with the Italians.
This morning he called in sick from work and started bellowing out orders to us. “His majesty demands DR PEPPER!” he’d shout. “Each individual ice cube must be towel-dried!” By then he’d placed his chair up on top of a milk crate and had a comforter wrapped around him like a robe. A couple hours ago he announced that he was naming his horse to the Senate, and then he popped a few caffeine pills and -- twitching -- declared his middle name a national holiday. Shortly thereafter he started blasting the National Anthem of Poland on his stereo system.
I only just escaped -- he had locked me into his closet, propped the dresser against it, and called it his “dungeon.” He also declared that his birthday would be celebrated with Bacchanalian pomp and revelry -- of course, since every turn in the game is one year, that means he demands that we party every turn. I don’t even know WHERE he found the all of those girls that are up there, but just before the floggings and his call for a Crusade against the garbage can I noticed they were feeding him grapes!
Just trust me, stay down here before King Hans sees you milling about and demands that you put on your “armor.” That’s why Chris is wrapped in aluminum foil. Oh no, he’s alive, just passed out. Best to let him rest.
[Loosely based on This Forum Thread by fans of the game, which would take forever to read through. But now you don’t have a choice, do you?]
Oh crap, here he comes. Quick, put this pot on your head. Don't ask -- he's the KING!
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