The Competitive Spirit

Hi, folks! I love a good game, but you know what I like more than a good game? WINNING a good game!



Of course it goes without saying that, as Headmaster of the Peggle Institute, I am very good at Peggle. Sure, the other Peggle Masters bring their own unique magical abilities to the table, and we’re always grateful for the millions of human players who’ve plunked hours into developing their Peggle skills to the extent that humans are capable, but when it comes to pure, unadulterated, straight-off-the-streets Peggle ABILITY, well… the smart money is firmly on the unicorn. It just stands to reason.


Which is why I’m a bit… I suppose “miffed” is as good a word as any, though “colon-clenchingly enraged” also works. I challenged Tula to a friendly game over lunch break, you see, just to keep the hoof in. She beat me by 130,000 points! “Ha, ha,” I chuckled with suave magnanimity and unicornish charm. “Good game. Lucky shot, of course, but well played.” I waggishly suggested we make it the best out of three, a proposition to which she shyly consented. But know this about Tula Sunflower: under her gracious exterior and friendly demeanor pulses the phloem of a raging monster, a heartless parody of life with no concern for any of the finer things, a sinister demoness who derives no pleasure except exposing her good friend and employer to ridicule in front of everybody by beating him by 190,000 points!


“Fine,” said I. “Best out of five, and may the best horned, four-legged, magical animal out of the two of us win.” And so we again joned battle. Ball after ball arced and bounced. Statistical improbability again reared its stinking shape and soon I was forced to make it best out of seven. At this point it became necessary to put money on the outcome, to the tune of five hundred dollarcoins. One lamentable set of bad outcomes and totally unfair lucky breaks for her later, I was forced to double the ante and make our match a best out of nine. Soon the ante doubled again and our match had evolved to the best out of eleven. By this point Tula was pleading with me to stop, but I realize now this was just her way of manipulating me into her honeyed trap.


I’m confident it’ll all work out, however. We’re taking a break at the moment, but we’ll soon return to the exciting second half of our best-out-of-23 match, where I expect things to turn around smartly! And just in case they don’t… can any of you spare a hundred and twenty-eight thousand dollarcoins?

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