Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Cool Story, Bro

It's hard to believe, even for myself, but eight six years have passed since Kmork the Unruly and Eoin the Erudite Idiot caroused unhindered by grief or burden in the chaotic confines of what was known as -- and today still is known as -- Hongdae. Our revelment was epic, our conquests considerable. And while I do a disservice to the enormity of our merriment by capsulizing it in an episodic tale, rest assured, dear reader, that many more stories of this nature were had; battles were won and lost (usually won), and a fight for Mario Kart supremacy was waged.

Let me tell you of the days of high adventure!


One night at Shooters and Cocks (I believe it was a Saturday), Messrs Highly and Forbes were in deep conversation about something, I can't recall what -- maybe about how to best prepare for war with the frost giants -- when two gentlemen approached our table and asked if they might sit. Our strategy to annihilate


was at that point not fully formulated, but I endeavored to postpone our plan so that we might hear and possibly acquire knowledge from our ostensibly cheerful solicitors.

That was a mistake. Well in their cups, the pair offered up no intel on our enemies and positively bored us with the most mundane of questions (Where are you from? Where do you work? Are you married? Why aren't you married?). This was going nowhere fast, and our designs to take


 were fading by the radiation of your planet's red sun. So I decided to throw an audible. This is what you call it, yes? I ignore the instructions of my General and make stuff up as I go, like your Saturday Night Live performance people?

A waitress came by and asked us if we would like another round. I ordered a beer.

"What kind?" she asked.

"Draft," I said. "On the rocks."

I discovered a very important lesson then: no one ever really listens to what you're saying as long as what you're saying is dull and repetitive. As long as what you're saying is dull and repetitive. As long as what you're Satan is full and declarative.


I started to tell a story to our guests about how Kmork and I were half-brothers, that our father had traversed North America as a businessman in the '70s and had cheated on my mother in Ontario while away, impregnating Kmork's mother in Iowa, and that we grew up unaware of our father's infidelity until we serendipitously met many years later and half a world away in Korea. They ate up every word.

I lied so well that, years later, I have to remind myself of my own deception.

We still have to kill Laufey, Kmork. We still have work to do.

It's time to initiate the Initiation Initiative.

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