High!

Hi, folks! I’m remarkably high at the moment!

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No, no, no… of course I’m not “high” in the parlance of your human slang, meaning being under the influence of some or another narcotic. Do give me some credit. I am a unicorn, after all, and hardly in need of such prosaically plebian sources of euphoria.

 

No, in this instance my highness is merely a function of my height. That is, I’m currently standing tippy-toe on top of one of the tallest ladders in the Institute, and thus my vertical deflection from normal is the greatest it’s ever been!

 

From these lofty heights I’m able to see fantastical regions I’ve never noticed or cared about before. There, off in the distance… the Forest of Trees! Over to my left… the Mountains of Rock! Behind me, breaking through the mists… the Plains of Dirt! And beyond those… a fence! Or possibly just a line… it’s a bit tough to tell from up here.

 

At any rate, I’m definitely expanding my horizons, quite literally in this case!

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Freedom!

Hi, folks! It certainly has been a while since the last update here at pegglefever.com! The explanation is simple: I was being held prisoner!

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I won’t bore you with the tantalizingly erotic details of my captivity. Suffice it to say that some particularly ardent Peggle fans executed a cunningly conceived plan to bring me under their control, and it took this long for me to win my freedom. The delay was partly because their security measures were so fiendishly erected, and partly because I actually didn’t mind hanging out with them so much. They were so enthusiastic! Their love of Peggle was so far-reaching! Their attention to balls, pegs and (to a lesser extent) bricks was unparalleled! Truly, it was almost a vacation.

 

Nonetheless, all extended involuntary leaves of absence must one day end, as did this one, culminating in a display of unicorn-powered escaping prowess so fantastical and amazing, I’m almost too embarassed to brag about it on this blog.

 

Oh, all right, I’ll admit it; I chewed through the handcuffs. They were made of marzipan!

 

At any rate, I’m pleased as punching to be back in the saddle here at the Institute, ready and eager to help folks learn once again!

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A Glitch in Time

Hi, folks! It sure was odd how no time at all passed between June 15 and now! A good thing, too, for if it had I’d be obliged to go through another incredibly tedious round of apologies. Whew!

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Instead, today I’m free to turn attention towards matters of greater import, by which I mean salad. I like salad as much as the next unicorn –maybe even more– and while I don’t mean to brag, I’ve had just about every salad there is. Chef salads, caesar salads, Cobb salads, Crab Louie salads, chicken salads… truly, it would be pointless to attempt to list all the salads I’ve enjoyed. I’ve even tried meat salad, which has no vegetable matter of any kind and is basically just a big pile of salami.

But as my salad-eating experiences have grown over the years, a secret concern has begun to gnaw away in my gut. What if I don’t actually like salads at all? Is it possible I’ve been misleading myself all these years? What if I only view salads as a means to an end, as merely a vehicle for cramming as much salad dressing down my eat-hole as possible?

Tell you what. I’m going to make a nice fresh garden salad and, for a change, I’m not going to dump a cup and a half of ranch on top, nor will I drown it in a tart little balsamic vinaigrette, nor drizzle it with endless delirious lengths of crisp American-style Italian. I’m gonna go in cold and try to experience the salad on its own terms, with simply bravery and honest truth. Wish me luck!

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Pittsburgh

Hi, folks! I’m getting ready to canter over to your human “Pittsburgh” this weekend, so this week’s blog post will be especially truncated!

 

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I don’t really know much about Pittsburgh, though I’m looking forward to seeing the giant Pit, wherever that is. I hear it’s huge! In addition, I’m told Pittburghers put French fries inside their hamburgers! Indeed, I believe such is the very dictionary definition of Pittsburgher! What madness you humans get up to sometimes!

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Scoring

Hi, folks! Today I’m going to spend a little time to talk about what points are for and how you get them!

 

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The first thing to understand is that points qua points are, in fact, completely illusory! That’s right! Points, in and of themselves, have no independent existence, but are in fact quantitative measurements of discrete Peggle events. Those points can then be collected and summed in order to create a mathematical expression of the overall quality of any given game of Peggle.

 

So let’s say, for example, that you played two games of Peggle and scored 75,000 and 350,000 points respectively. Within certain parameters, therefore, we may say that the second game was quite a bit better than the first game or, if you like, that the first game was much much worse than the second.

 

Obviously, this view is only an approximation, and doesn’t map directly to a number of subtle though extremely peggleriffic qualities such as uniqueness, awesomeness, and the degree to which a given game generates within the player that nigh-mystic quality known as “fun.” A low-scoring game, for example, may still be the source of some interesting or unusual replays if you’re easily amused.

 

Even within the halls of Peggle scholarship there is controversy over the exact use and expression of points. The function of the Fevermeter in particular, while useful to the initiated, can be a source of great confusion or even apathy. Just yesterday Jimmy explained to me he never quite understood what it was for, and he works here! As we can can see, therefore, scoring is a big area with lots of room to explore!

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A Trillion Apologies

Hi, folks! As you’ve no doubt noticed, this blog went without updates for two weeks straight with no explanation. According to Peggle custom, I now owe you all a trillion apologies. So, with no additional ado, let’s begin! Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry

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sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry… how many is that? 71? And how many to go? 999999999929 sorries? Yikes!

 

Well, I owe you each and every one of those apologies, but I don’t want to waste your time, so how about we do this: I’ll say “sorry” a thousand times, and each time I say the thousandth “sorry” I’ll type “ksorry” to represent those thousand sorries, just because I know how much you humans love using letters as numbers! Deal? All righty, then!

 

Ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry ksorry huff puff puff puff puff… breeeeeeathe, Bjorn, breathe. Where are we at? Ninety-six thousand, seventy-one sorries? With nine hundred and ninety-nine billion, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and three million, nine hundred and twenty-nine sorries still to come?

 

Really? We’re only 0.0000096071 percent into this apology? But it’s already lunchtime!

 

Hmmm… well, I hate to do it, but it’s time to bring in the big guns. I’ll say “sorry” a million times, and on each millionth sorry I’ll type an “msorry,” just to speed things along for you, the alert and time-sensitive reader. Here we go!

 

Msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry msorry!

 

Yeah! NOW we’re making progress! We’re all the way up to 200,096,071 sorries! And with a mere 999,799,903,929 left to go, we’re a whopping… how much… let me check my numbers… carry the ten… we’re a whopping… a whopping… um… whopping… we’re… hmmm… we’re just past the 0.02% mark.

Please understand. I am very sorry for missing those blog updates. But *being* sorry just won’t cut it; I have to say just how sorry I am. I am, however, starting to appreciate why our Peggle custom of offering a trillion apologies is a custom observed more in the breach than the follow-through.

 

Nonetheless! I am very sorry, so I’ll say I’m sorry a *thousand million times* before typing, let’s say, “mksorry,” and we’ll get through this together! What do you say?

 

Mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry mksorry pant pant wheeeeeze huff puff gasp I think I need a glass of water.

 

We must be close to done now, right? Let me check my figures… five hundred billion, two hundred million, ninety-six thousand and seventy-one sorries? Just past half way? I’m not sure if I’m much more sorry than this, dammit!

 

No, no, I apologize, dear readers (for getting upset just then, mind, as opposed to being late on the blog). I let my emotions get the better of me. True, I’ve been trapped in the sorry cube saying sorry for many times longer than the length of time your universe has existed, but I insist I’m going to see this through. But let’s wrap it up with another four hundred and ninety-nine billion, seven hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and three thousand, nine hundred and twenty sorries you’re just going to assume I said. That leaves… let’s see, subtract one, carry the 799,903,920, ummm… just nine more sorries! Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry…

 

You know what? Now I think about it, I’m not that sorry after all. I was busy!

 

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Hi, folks!

Hi, folks! Recently it’s been brought to my attention that my propensity for beginning each and every blog post with the phrase “Hi, folks” is hi-ly repetitive!

 

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Such may be the case, but you know what? I don’t care! “Hi, folks” is a friendly, welcoming way to begin an interaction of any sort, whether it’s starting a blog post or declaring your intention to destroy all humans. A happy, reliable little “Hi, folks” always takes the tension away. Furthermore, it perfectly expresses my avuncular, generous-hearted spirit in a way no other catching-phrase could!

 

So get used to it, readers; “Hi, folks” isn’t going anywhere! In fact, I think I’m even going to use it to bookend this very post! And so, with a very merry “Hi, folks,” I’m out of here! Hi, folks!

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Electionerring

Hi, folks! I’m all a-tremble with anticipation at the moment, as I’m about to pop over into your world to help out with one of your human “elections.” How exciting!

 

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I am, of course, for security reasons forbidden from detailing exactly where this election is taking place or to whom I will be lending my support. Suffice it to say my preferred candidate represents everything that is good, kind and unicorn-positive in the face of the foul and degrading policies advanced by her opponents!

 

This should be an immensely educational experience, not just for the humans who get to spend some time in my presence, but also for me! I’ve always been curious about how your human election processes differ from ours, and now I finally get to observe one firsthoof!

 

Apparently my duties will involve “tele-phoning” various humans, after which I will read a prepared script and ask in unsubtle terms for whom they intend to vote. If they say anyone other than my candidate, I’m instructed to hang up immediately. If they support my human, however, then we’re to carefully bank their opinion such that we may bother the living hell out of them on Election Day until we can confirm they’ve voted. Sounds like fun!

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Ballywood

Hi, folks! I spent last week chatting with some of your human movie producers who have expressed interest in making a moving picture about Peggle!

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You know me; I’m a cosmopolitan unicorn of the world. I’ve been around, I’ve visited your world, so I’ve had opportunity to see some of your movie-shows for myself. Very entertaining, though I don’t understand why I haven’t seen your Steve Guttenberg in anything recently.

 

Anyway, two very high level producers flew Jimmy and myself out to your Hollywood to discuss their ideas for making a Peggle movie. It was a most illuminating discussion!

 

“Let me tell ya, Bjorny-babe” said one of two identical humans in slick white suits, “we love Peggle. Love it. LOVE. IT.”

 

“Why, thank you,” I replied. “We’re very fond of it as well!”

 

“HAHAHA,” said the other identical human (or it may have been the first one). “That’s funny. You’re funny. This is great. Isn’t this great?”

 

I swiftly agreed that it was.

 

“So you know we love Peggle, right? We think it can be huge. Bigger than huge. What’s bigger than huge?” the one human asked the other.

 

“Gigantormous.”

 

“Yes. Totally. It can be that. There’s just a couple of little things we gotta iron out.”

 

“Sure, of course,” said I. “What do you have in mind?”

 

“Well, we’re not so hot on the peg part. Pegs don’t test so good. For certain audiences, pegs are fine, don’t get me wrong, but they’re poison for the kind of demographic we’re looking at. Same with bricks. Pegs and bricks, we gotta find something for them. How do you feel about legs and hicks?”

 

“Um…”

 

“I’m just spitballing, we don’t have to decide today. Kegs and licks could work too. And the ball. It’s not doing it for me. The ball and the rainbows and all that magic stuff. I’m thinking we go darker. Like, really dark. We get that guy, the guy from that thing with the bats, we get him to play you but he’s all gnarly, right? Piercings and leather and lots of crazy gnarly tattoos, he’s like a real badass, right? And he’s trapped in a space prison and he’s got to hook up with Tula and and and, what’s beaver-guy’s name?”

 

“Jimmy!” yelled Jimmy. “And I’m not a beaver, I’m a totally rad gopher!”

 

“Right, he hooks up with Tula and Jimmy Gopher Guy and they get this magic potion, but it’s not magic, it’s like, science that’s really advanced. And they drink the potion and it puts them in this, like, other world and they fight stuff from their minds but really they’re just fighting other guys in the prison, and when they finally bust out it’s all like HELLZ YA EXTREME FEVER BOYYYZ!!!”

 

He continued to pump the air with his fist for a few seconds after he finished speaking, then opened his eyes (they’d been closed the whole time) and directed them at me and Jimmy.

 

Jimmy and I regarded each other. We’d heard all we needed to.

 

“Where do we sign?”

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Peggle Science!

Hi, folks! I talk a lot about magic on this blog, which is appropriate considering just how darned magical everything is around here. But while magic is a fundamental part of our everyday existence, we’re also big fans of science!

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Of course, as is so often the case, we do things a little differently here. Consider the question, “What laws of motion govern a falling body?” In your world, one of your scientists would think about the problem, come up with a provisional explanation or “hypo-thesis,” and then perform some kind of experiment which might support or disprove the proposed explanation. Likely your scientist would gather numbers or “data” which could be subjected to “analysis” or some similar process one could surround with “quotation marks” in order to sound smarter and more academic.

 

In the Peggle Universe, our approach to such a question would be much more direct. Faced with the question posed above, our enterprising Peggle Universe scientist would begin by writing the question down, by hand (or hoof, or tentacle, or what have you), one hundred times exactly. Our scientist would then fold up the medium on which he or she had written the questions (usually but not necessarily paper). She or he would then whisper quiet words of love and admiration to the paper, coaxing feelings of generosity and truthfullness from the fabric of the cosmos, after which he or she would then ask a servant or relative to deliver the folded paper to the Bureau of Unrelated Snacks, along with some token of esteem like an orange. Six to ten weeks later the answer to the question would arrive in the mail along with a handful of old bus tickets and Presto! a new scientific theory is born!

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