Fernando's Adventure: Part 6

After dinner, Alfonso rendezvoused with Andrés for cigarettes. Fernando and Ronaldo retired to the games room, where Chess Guy and Chess Kid lurked as they always do. More games of Siamese-style chess were had and the two smokers joined in eventually. Such things were a way to pass the time, nothing more. The real reason for camping the place was the Munchkin tournament that was to begin at 11 PM.

Other people began to filter in starting at about 9, crowding the room and camping the hallway outside. One of them was a lanky man with long hair whose goth/emo/whatever-dressed girlfriend at one point apparently opted for a procedure that surgically melded the two together. Wondertwins never physically separated. When they stood in the hallway, she draped her arm and leg about his front and Fernando couldn't help but be reminded of Zalera, the Angel of Death. When Wondertwins sat down for a game of chess at the behest of Chess Guy (quite probably because he didn't want to deal with Chess Kid any longer), he spun the chair around so the female half could straddle it behind him, whereupon she wrapped her arms and legs around his shoulders and torso like a vast tentacled beast from the deeps that had just seized its prey.

Fernando and Ronaldo took a detour to wander the halls and escape the cloying public display of sentimentalism. They decided to check out the band that was playing in another room, a self-labeled “murdercore” performance troupe. About twelve or so people, eleven of which were female, with the last one an awkward-looking guy standing off to one side, comprised the audience.

Now, Fernando's not all that well-versed in popular music and the various -cores that exist within it, but one would think that by appending the affix “murder-” to “-core,” it would feature a style and theme somewhat similar to death metal, with which Fernando does have passing experience thanks to upstanding gentlemen like Former College Roommate Nataniel and the brave music battles he waged against the dread forces of Generic College Dorm Rap Music. Namely, a lot of guttural growling, fervent guitar riffs, and lyrical content which explores topics like stylized violence or existential nihilism.

Instead, the performance was milquetoast punk. The particular song being performed when the pair popped in was about being yourself despite other people's judgments. A laudable topic, sure, but not really deserving of the label “murdercore.”

Fernando is, however, forced to admit that this band was infinitely better than the drum circle which followed.

The overseer for the Munchkin tournament showed up about twenty minutes after 10 and announced that the tournament's start would be delayed until 11:30. What is it with people and their incapability of adhering to a schedule? The room was cleared and the cluster of nerds now filled the hallway. Fernando stood and swapped more D&D stories with Andrés. Alfonso and Ronaldo joined in for a while, but then went off on their own. Fernando assumed at the time it was solely for a food run, but a plot was hatched and Fernando would only grow aware of it after everything from the evening had played out.

At long last, the tournament began. Alfonso, Ronaldo, Fernando, and Andrés made a pact with one another stating that it was better that one of us win than none of us. The three travelers had only known Andrés for less than two days, but the stranger had wormed his way into their hearts and they would all be okay with him coming away a winner.

An epic spread lay on the three dining room-sized tables: roughly $1500 in Munchkin cards: every base set, nearly every expansion, summing untold thousands of tiny paper rectangles. Overseer Oman laid out the rules, the first and foremost of which was, “There will under no circumstances be any drinks on the tables. If there are drinks on the tables, they will spill, and if they spill, they will get on cards, and if they get on cards, you will be replacing them.”

Winning was determined in the usual Munchkin way: the first person to reach level 10 wins that table. The two winners of the respective tables would square off at the third table for the vaunted Level 11. The table winners would receive a $10 gift certificate to Misty Mountain Games. The loser at the third table would win an additional $50 certificate to the game store and copy of the newest expansion for Munchkin Zombies, autographed by John Kovalic.

First prize was a drawing-slash-card by John Kovalic that would become tournament-legal if Steve Jackson, the genius designer behind the game, affixed his signature to it.

The fifteen competitors were split into two tables, one of eight and one of seven. Fernando found himself divided from his comrades, for Alfonso, Ronaldo, and Andrés were clustered at the other table, along with Chess Guy, last year's champion, a father-son pair, and a teenaged boy. Fernando was stuck with Wondertwins (even now, inseparable, though the female half was not playing) and five other people he'd never seen or met before. The youngest player at Fernando's table was a girl aged maybe twelve or thirteen.

Let the game begin! As Fernando only had real experience with the base set and Munchkin Cthulhu, it is from those decks that he drew most of his cards. Play progressed as it usually does in that game and oh yeah Fernando got eaten by Cthulhu on his third turn because WHY NOT. All fourteen other competitors got to go up a level based on Overseer Oman's ruling of the card's text, and the text-mandated mockery of Fernando's horrible fortune by the other players only rubbed more salt in that wound.

Nothing of interest happened at Fernando's table aside from his consumption by the Great Old One. The other table, though, suffered much drama and trauma. Not long after Fernando's death, a booming howl erupted from that side of the room, rife with indignation and accusation. “I have a right to see what that card does because it is public knowledge! Turn...it...OVER!”

Everything stopped. Heads turned and the sight was awesome and frightening to behold. A man had shed his mortal trappings, unleashing his full potential. Stress and a personal vendetta against Reigning Champ had forced Chess Guy to metamorphose into Sir Dicks-A-Lot, for last year it had come down to Champ and Sir Dicks-A-Lot in the finals, and it all had hinged on a judge's decision.

Oh, it was on now.

Not long thereafter, Overseer Oman gave a ghastly cry of abject torment. “NNNNOOOOOOO!”

The dread prediction had come true. Waterboy had placed his cup of refreshment on the table and Murphy's Law had been invoked. Ronaldo's in-play cards swam in a clear liquid which the world hoped was water and not Sierra Mist. The boy slunk out and Ronaldo lamented that his apparently awesome steamroll had been forestalled by the vagaries of fate.

Long story short, Fernando won his table because everybody thought he was out of the game for the longest time, so he hoarded his power and wealth and came from far behind, leveling from 6 to 10 in a single turn, and the other people at the table could do nothing about it because they had burnt all their cards on the other people on the edge of winning. Fernando had his gift certificate in his possession for only a short while, though, as the other players at his table (except for Wondertwins, who skedaddled immediately after Fernando's victory; and Little Gamer Girl who never saw it coming) clustered up and unanimously agreed to approach Fernando about giving the card to Little Gamer Girl, who had been a simply phenomenal sport about everything.

This seemed like a good idea to Fernando, so everyone left the room to chase her down. Anywhere but a gaming convention five grown men hustling after a pubescent girl would set off all kinds of red flags, but everyone caught up to her and the card was transferred with pomp and ceremony, and even though she rejected it the first time, Fernando insisted. Cheers, Little Gamer Girl!

He spent the next hour standing in the corner of the room near the third table as the other table finished.

It all came down to Team Dad versus Sir Dicks-A-Lot. Ronaldo was still a viable win, but he had put most everything towards helping Alfonso make a mad dash to victory which proved fruitless and left Fernando's brother out the running. Andrés, sadly, never really got any momentum going due to horrid draw luck. Reigning Champ was kept down all game by Sir Dicks-A-Lot, and so Reigning Champ spent his time and energy fucking with everyone equally.

Team Dad had just barely been thwarted on the father's turn. His son did everything in power to ensure Dad's win, but it was only through concentrated effort from everyone else that he did not move on to the finals. Next up was Ronaldo, who was not in a position to win and drew no cards that could help ensure a win. Following him was Sir Dicks-A-Lot. Fernando heard him ask Ronaldo, “Does our agreement still stand?”

Wait what now?

Sir Dicks-A-Lot then powerleveled from 8 to 10 in one fell swoop, slaying a monster he played from his hand while Ronaldo helped him. Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued from all the other players at the table except Ronaldo, who had something of a smug look on his face.

In exchange for his assistance, Ronaldo received the gift card that Sir Dicks-A-Lot would otherwise have won. Furthermore, he had nothing to bring to the winner's circle, while Fernando still had something resembling an arsenal in his hand and equipped to his character. He knew this, and so he approached Fernando with a proposition: to split the winnings evenly. Half of the $50 gift card would go to Fernando, the other half to Sir Dicks-A-Lot. They would sojourn to the game store tomorrow to split the winnings. Fernando would also have first pick of either the drawing or the Munchkin expansion.

His reasoning was as follows: “Better for both of us to get something than for one of us to get nothing.”

O...okay. Fernando would have been just fine with the picture alone. Now he has $25 in gift certificate money out of it as well, on top of the $10 of Ronaldo's.

So Fernando took the picture. Muchkin expansion boxes are small and easily crumpled and why does he need another copy of John Kovalic's signature when he has the two on his Munchkin boxes and the half-tourney-legal card?

Overseer Oman was okay with this proposal, since it was after 3 AM by this point and he just wanted to go to bed. However, the tournament rules stipulated that the winner of the tournament would be granted ownership of the picture. Since Fernando now had ownership of the picture, Overseer Oman was forced to conclude that Fernando technically had won the tournament.

Fuck yeah.