It was a 1v1, jungle map, I (white) was in the center and my opponent (green) controlled 95% of the map. I started off in the tool age with an MTD Yardman 5 HP push mower (a riding mower would have been bronze age & paying the neighbors kid would've been iron-age.) I struggled to decide what strat I was going to use. The map covered a full 3/4 acre, and I couldn't decide whether to cut in a circle gradually moving away from the house, cut in parallel tracks, or do the golfer's checkerboard. When the game started I chose the parallel-track method because it is my favorite, and I swear that the grass cutting goes much quicker. Go figure.
I decided to divide and conquer this day. The small patch of grass at 3 was isolated from its more powerful ally by my gravel driveway. A good place to launch an offensive. I started off strong. My legs were fresh, the air was cool (11:00 am) and my thirst had been quenched. I attacked the weaker of my foes with a zeal and a vengeance that I hadn't exhibited before. Chug, chug roared the mower. I pushed the mower across the yard, reversed direction and cut again. "Hey, this isn't too bad," I thought. The grass was succombing easily to the whirling dervish that was the cutting blade. "Maybe I'll be done in an hour!" Yeah right!
I finished the small section without any major problems, a bit of sweat beaded on my brow and I was starting to feel a bit thirsty. Without slowing down I turned my attention to the tough part. This section of my lawn consists of a steep hill that runs down to the street. It is protected by trees that constantly drop their limbs, branches, and acorns. The end result is usually a treacherous struggle pushing the cutter up the hill while avoiding the flying and debilitating debris that shoots out from all parts of the mower.
Any sane man would scoop up all the debris before he cut, but not me. Besides not being sane, I like to mulch everything and return the destroyed villies and troops back to their mother earth.
Today was no different, as the acorns tended to be worst. If I wasn't slipping and sliding on them, then they were shooting out from under the mower smack into my knees and shins. Yet I pushed...and pushed...and kept on pushing the mower. Up the hill and down the hill. Up, down. On and on the battle raged. I thought I was going to lose. Tree limbs crashed at the most inopportune moments. Acorns smashing in to me. My breathing became labored. The sweat began pouring down the sides of my face, over my eyes, dripping off my nose, yet I kept up the assault. I'll NOT give into the ever growing foliage. Never!
At one point, I heard voices. Very quiet to start, "Chubby." Then again, "Chubby." Ever so softly. I tried to shrug it off. But the voices became louder, Chubby, Chubby, Chubby..." what was going on? This had never happened before. Now, I was almost through cutting the grass, the enemy was in full retreat, yet the voices persisted. "CHUBBYHUBBY! CHUBBYHUBBY! CHUBBYHUBBY!" And then I remembered how thirsty I was. How HOT I was. Where were those voices coming from? Whose voices were they?
With just a few passes to go it dawned on me. It was Ben & Jerry! Somehow they had permeated my subconciosness and were trying to remind me that we had run out of Chubby Hubby Ice Cream! "OH NOOOO!!!," I screamed. What in the world was I going to do? After 2 hours of grass cutting, I now had nothing to look forward to. So I became frantic. I flew threw the rest of the lawn, drove to 7-11 and bought a six-pack of Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby Ice Cream!
Whoa! I don't think anything ever tasted better.
Hmmmmm.....I'm hungry! ------------------
Turn'em and Burn'em!
[This message has been edited by ChubbyHubby (edited 04-27-99).]