You better read it first, Coalie. I didn't type all that fluff for fun. I did it for your enjoyment. Go read it, you won't regret it.

not sure how complicated
you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote
control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by
the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that
in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they
wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or
whatever had disappeared."

"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him
off of the stone and looked up into the sky.

"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,
right?" asked Jack.

"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."

"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long.
Do you know what he died of, Nate?"

"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat
sad.

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.

Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in
society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start
questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He
faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and
he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he
liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.

"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't
stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend
time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he
told me he'd had enough. It was his time."

"And then he just died?" asked Jack.

Nate shook his head a little. "He made his forth request, Jack. There's only
one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.

After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his
time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always
had.

After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone
with the sunrise."

Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his
memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with
the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except
that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to
get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long
walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made
it back easily.

Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,
little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert
and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with
a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV.
They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without
incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's
lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a
book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to
avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see
Nate.

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new
backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then
started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he
knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of,
and shouldn't really raise suspicions.

Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers.
Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world,
others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate,
and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but
that he had things to do first.

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought
a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger,
special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a
special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot
rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out
its location to the satellite.

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him
fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.

After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he
'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,
working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile
any more. Jack went back to school.

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps
because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote,
and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started
traveling around the country for book signings and readings.

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.

On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been
a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing
Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace
Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this
visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at
Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's
silence, sat down and waited.

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."

Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?

"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son."
Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the
dune and up to the stone base of the lever.

"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.

"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I
assume?"

Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around
for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the
edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me
about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the
other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to
have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.

"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have
that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even
joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can
do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was
something more.

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said,
"Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet
ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my
first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to
know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But
anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I
needed a replacement."

Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world,
and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"

Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've
already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave
here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about
this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would
be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another
hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.
Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said
was, "What do you want me to do?"

Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around
the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here
and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.

"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of
old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now.
I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be
able to die. And I need you to kill me.

"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And
I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so
that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.

Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd
say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground
or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of
going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work,
even on me.

"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.

"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."

Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy!
Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."

Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it
back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then
headed into the desert with Sammy following.
Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through
e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting
every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a
natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up
acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to
keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were
nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a
few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle
them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few
wild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the
newspapers or the public in general.

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some
undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally
drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was
stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that
Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans
could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.

So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told
Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from
his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to
Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by
getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as
much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was
definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to
head back and see Nate.

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he
and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up
Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.

When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those
years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like
walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to
figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either
have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his
resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was
only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks
afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they
drove, and then they could get it over tonight.

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of
sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out
into the desert.

Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been
nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds,
revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to
the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed
up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd
decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing
traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to
keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the
other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and
laughing at Jack's driving.

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw
that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,
waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV
started slipping down the other side.

Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped
the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and
faster.

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were
heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for
it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end
humanity.

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't
working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second,
Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the
lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit
the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer
away.

Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a
little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just
right.

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the
sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that
they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something
else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped
around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the
stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of
the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV
was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the
sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the
lever to the other side.

Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the
lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy
realized the same thing.

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone.
Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER," he ran over the snake.

very efficiently. You should be able to
get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert.
You've been changed.

"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the
effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal.
In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.
Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly
amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.

"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack
could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read
talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree
to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell
you."

"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd
have to kill me?"

"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.

"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was
talking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a
nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really
stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do
you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper
fluid, and just denature it?"

"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a
while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and
on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you
pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume
that they still color wiper fluid blue?"

"Yeah, they do," said Jack.

"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the
fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me,
this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you
decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me,
write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will
lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of
course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm
guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding
anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.

Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a
little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know
that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"

Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the
second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.

"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I
ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"

"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes
to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and
before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or
omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous
and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and
sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be
omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very
useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was
staring at him.

"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent
good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be
immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long
time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to
recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a
request to me."

"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a
long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request
about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not
really a change to me?"

"Right," nodded Nate.

"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.

"That takes two requests, Jack."

"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could
become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"

"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't
necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you
very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either.
You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some
truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It
all depends on what you decide to do with it."

"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,
after this one?"

"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more
rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second
request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had
shoulders.

"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent
health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially.
Do I need to sign in blood or something?"

"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or
whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said,
that's how it works - the poison, you know," Nate said apologetically.

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it
didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better
about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot
snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to
be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack
tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it
wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind
him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of
nowhere? And did they bring food?

Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through
his jeans...

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have
decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to
hoodwink me like that."

"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You
humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you -
especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of
minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the
health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."

"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody
likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or
something instead?"

"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you
accidentally kick me or move at the last second."

"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify
to hear," answered Jack.

"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to
just start talking?"

"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."

"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,"
answered Nate.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up.
"What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically
whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with
excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.

"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite
it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,
that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.

"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little
longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it
is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw.
No thanks. Just talk."

"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start
looking at me as food.

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued.
"You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate
sceptically.

"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up
and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark
stone they were both sitting on with his nose.

Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a
representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around
was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches
left the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it
looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and
embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the
setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the
sky.

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another
night out here! Arrrgh!

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and
stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said
Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to
have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw
desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."

"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail
this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to
the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by
the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be
able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head
out early tomorrow, Jack."

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and
then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading
out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting
stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"

"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He
figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a
'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he
could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from
across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."

"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"

"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to
count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I
do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands
of years, at least."

"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.

"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your
kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it
could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant
requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."

"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out
of the stone there?" asked Jack.

"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much
bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember
if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But
one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do
something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've
been here ever since.

"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"

"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his
coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into
the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to
enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned
over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as
Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but
Nate was suddenly there in the way.

"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.

"Why not?" asked Jack.

"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.

"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it
that way, and it would move in the slot."

"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.

"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"

"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it
'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing
voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and
grinned.

Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned
Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it
really do?"

"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought
the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"

Nate continued to grin.

"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why
would anyone need to end humanity?"

"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment.
Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really
bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are
the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I
didn't think to ask back when I started here."

"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.

"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it
unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human
can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.

Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now?
You'd let me end humanity?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do
you want to, Jack?"

"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in
the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want
that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,
wouldn't it?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."

"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Nate. "Any of those bound
to secrecy, that is?"

"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or
another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and
think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get
disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.
But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at
the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of
humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"

"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.

"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this
decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are
bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"

"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's
up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed
to know."

"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel
horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?"
protested Jack.

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to
try your best, Jack."

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly
getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the
one bound to this before me?"

"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to
read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried
in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months
ago."

"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you
first told him. What did he do?"

"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and
then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."

"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.

"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.

"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request
you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point
that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here
and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious
again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."

"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.

Nate watched him, waiting.

"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with
his third request?"

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,
"Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."

"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it
to me.

Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"

"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped
him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his
shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"

"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward.
Like he had a lot to think about."

"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to
face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now,
Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.

"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like
it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body
tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.

"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll
turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"

"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes,
straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there.
With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot
in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the
now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet
extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to
the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been
recently bitten.

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped
bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever,
his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he
was still awake.

Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he
thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.

"Nate, do accidents count?"

Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know,
accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does
that still wipe out humanity?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that
if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.

A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.

"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.

"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull
the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a
rock?"

"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how com

So, there's a man crawling through the desert.

He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out
and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.

He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon
how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,
he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication
later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give
him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle
in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the
direction he thinks is right.

He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's
been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and
whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.

By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the
town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs.

As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,
he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back
up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.

He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day.

He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in
his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't
find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.

Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke.

He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait
any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large
rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly
swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry
and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes
another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.
He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to
make some difference and keep himself from passing out.

He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him,
it kills him - if he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty
sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick - their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that.

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,
dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.
Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.

After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat
stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep going.

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He
knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing
donuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it - he's getting woozy
enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers any more or if
he's hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it,
trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.

He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure any more. He's not even sure how long he's been walking any more. Is it still morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon - it seems like it's been too long since he started out.

He walks through the sand.

After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't
remember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he
doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.

But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures
that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from
there that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third
time, and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up - he'll
just fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.

While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally
gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert - crawling through
the sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert
in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any
rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape -
shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.

He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top,
he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees
is sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he
sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more
dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.

Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper
fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the
cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it's dark - darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from
here. He's going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.
After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble - he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough
energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When
he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot
in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.

So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins
to crawl towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to
have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages
of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't
have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last
chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the
dark area. His eyes won't quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting
his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just
keeps crawling.

Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center,
where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone
area.

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark
stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun
overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying
down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's
probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and
dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the
beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him
a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here
in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the
center before he goes. He keeps crawling.

It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's
hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do
not look well. Do you hear me?"

He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and
knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something
different - he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few
seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and
tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands
and tries again. Better this time.

Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse
of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or
pole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet
out of the stone, at an angle.

And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and
seeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long
desert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him.

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and
run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his
final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to
move from this spot.

Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than
dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a
little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves
it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a
moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn't rattled yet -
that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn't going to die of snake bite after all.

He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here
because he thought he'd heard a voice. He was still very woozy - he was
likely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was
now on cool stone. He still didn't have anything to drink. But maybe he had
actually heard a voice. This stone didn't look natural. Nor did that white
post sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybe
they were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake
was even their pet, and that's why it wasn't biting.

He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but his throat is too dry. All
that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he's going
to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the
bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out,
almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't
good. He doesn't have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes
out.

He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips,
and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then
swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk
now.

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to
spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"

He turns his head, back towards the snake. That's where the sound had seemed
to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a
speaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides
to try asking for help.

"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be
thirsty any more. I've been a long time without water. Can you help me?"

Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was
coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its
mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he
falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits
up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily
disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers - the crawl across the
sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped
around the tilted white post, still looking at him.

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet.
He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder
again - his shirt has what feels like two holes in it - two puncture holes -
they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been
bitten. By the snake.

"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He
hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy any more. And more
importantly, he's not thirsty any more - at all!

"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the
afterlife?"

"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I
work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."

"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty any more? Did you give me a
drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be
thirsty any more? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for
the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk?
Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"

"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I
didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works - it's what I do. I
bite. I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just
sitting around here."

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the
desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a
snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not
great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no
longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt
hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool
stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer
dying of thirst.

"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your
system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you
drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left
in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or
two, if you drank enough of it."

"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting
shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.

"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You
get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his
own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.

"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The
second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of
responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.

"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,
Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound
used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand
for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into
names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry
if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds
somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.

"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack
Samson.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the
poison...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that?
What do you mean by that's how you work?"

"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer
all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets
wider. "Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need
to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not
be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make
it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at
all. Your body will conserve water

I don't have a ton to say when ya'll are kicking our butt. I guess I can say good job. Keep it up. I'll do my best to rally back.

It has come to my attention that my response to the cheating from Sui and Weezy was far louder and more aggressive than the cheating found from the LaF side.

I know some of you may have seen my post response to Superfly, in which I absolutely said the cheating from LaF shouldn't be tolerated either. But I've been reminded that my response was far more aggressive to Sui/Weezy.


I apologize for this. They absolutely don't deserve a bigger response or more aggressive response from me simply due to them not being on my side of the war. I hope they will accept my apology. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and admit that it is possible they didn't realize what they were doing was going to 'save' so to speak. Intent is important in these instances, and I don't truly know what their intent was.


I hope SoF/SoL/Mercs will accept my apology.


As for LaF - I also don't know your intent behind your cheating, but it is important that I equally chastise you for cheating, just as I did the enemy. So this is mean, again, stating that what you did is wrong and you shouldn't need to resort to cheating, especially when you're already winning in a war.


This war has been a lot of fun (at least for me) and I hate to see it tarnished by cheating by anybody.


Sorry for making another post on this Galleri. I know you're going to be upset seeing it... I can't please everyone though. :(

What the hell did I do that deserves mod intervention? All of my forum posts are fun and bring something to the game.


Besides, DD won't address my posts OR me. He's put me on silent treatment for my bad clan leadership.

I think we can all agree that I should be the judge/jury/executioner. I am the only trustworthy person around here.

What are you talking about? Whose communication is being deleted?

Superfly.


I will admit you were right. So I am sorry that I called you a liar.


I am not entirely sure if you actually knew they cheated, or were just guessing. Either way, you were correct. So I apologize. Cheating definitely shouldn't be tolerated.



Just for the record, since you keep bringing it up over and over for the past few months, and multiple times in multiple threads here....

I don't consider myself a cheater. I've never purposefully cheated. What I have done is accidentally overstep rules on solo servers as it regards to hitting other countries that have been hit by people I know. "Double teaming" others, if you will.

I've made it really clear in the past what happened, and what my position was when those things happened. But I'll say it one more time.

I think, if memory servers correctly, I've been deleted three times. The first time I violated a rule I didn't know was a rule (remember, I am new here). The second time I violated the rule when I thought the way we did it was within the confines of the rule. Pushing the envelope, if you will. And the third and last time I got deleted, I still maintain I didn't deserve to be deleted. What I did was something that has been done to me about 50 times in primary last set, and I reported every time, and nobody else was deleted for. I had a long conversation with galleri and gerdler about it, and disagreed with their logics, but ultimately came away with a better understanding of where the rules are.

Since then, I have not been deleted once. I'd say that I've learned where the lines are.

To draw an analogy, I'd say I was guilty of pass interference a few times, while trying to understand how the refs are calling the game. That doesn't make me a cheater. That makes me new, and it means I needed to learn.


I get that you REALLY hate me. I get that your side see's my name and immediately goes into a rage. You're fine to kill my country every 2 days in alliance. I think it's a waste of resources, and to be honest, am honored you keep deeming me the most important threat to deal with, but you're totally fine to do it.


What I wish you would stop doing, however, is calling me a cheater. I don't believe that moniker is accurate, and I think you're using it unfairly.


In fact, I'll take this a step further (so sorry req and link, didn't intend the length here, but what can i say!)


I've even started to abide by the norms and culture of EE, after having so many people tell me why I was a bad guy and why I had to change my ways. You, Coalie, Simba, DD, Req, and all the others have told me, CONSTANTLY, that ABing OOP was a toxic thing to do in a war. You said that you only do it if you're seeking to ruin the game for others, and actually want to run them out of the game.

You've also told me it's extremely ineffective, so there is no reason to do it.

And then what happens? On the server where you guys were practically begging for us to come back and play (team) you've AB'd us OOP. Which again, totally fine. I don't care. But I just find it ironic that you're calling me a cheater, you constantly chastise me for being a toxic player, or a bad person, then you go and do the thing I've been chastised for.


And before you go and claim 'we were just ABing you cause we knew you were going to do it'.

1. No we weren't, and I have plenty of chat logs I can share that proves I told everyone not to attack for awhile (I legitimately wanted a fun war, LOL. Dumb me).

2. If we were going to do it, we would have done it. But we didn't.




So to sum up, Superfly.


I am sorry for calling you a liar. Two LaFers did cheat (or at least one, I guess it's not clear if you're on the receiving end of getting FA if you're a cheater. You didnt actually take any action... you just benefited from it).

I'm also sorry that two people from my side of the war cheated. That's unfortunate, unacceptable, and I wish it hadn't happened.


But please stop calling me a cheater. I don't think it's warranted.

I was sleeping, Superfly. But now that I'm awake, I'll chime in since you asked for it.


The LaF guys that abused this bug should be deleted, that was cheating. I'm glad QZ had the ability to find the additional cheaters, even after we thought there had been no other cheating going on. The fact that he put the effort into looking harder into things is pretty awesome for our game.

Shame on those LaF countries for cheating. You knew better. No reason to do that.



Happy, Superfly?

We still doing this boo thing? Cause if so...

BOO!

Do you think that's the same level of bug as 'i can't login because cheaters killed my country, the admins reinstated it, but it's not fully working yet'?

Cause if you do, you're an idiot.

If you don't, then you're just out here making dishonest arguments.


Which is it? Idiot or dishonest interlocutor?

I am aware of the effect I have on APOC. (That was a The Office reference, for those who don't get it).


Matrolen - It might be love/hate today. But next round it's gonna be all love baby. We are destined to be friends!

I find it absolutely HILARIOUS that one side wants to cry foul, and talk about how everything is unfair, after they cheated.

It's really simple.

Blatant cheating occurred. The admins saw this, and sought to rectify it as best they could. It obviously wasn't easy to fix, and it took some time. In the middle of them rectifying it, the side that cheated decided to start playing the game fair again. And they attacked someone who was entirely unable to do anything about it, DUE TO THE PREVIOUS CHEATING.


The circumstances at the time of your legitimate attacked only occurred, and were only possible to have occurred, due to your sides cheating.

Does it suck that you wasted resources? Of course. Did you think that kill was legitimate? Maybe. Is the only reason that you wasted resources and wasted turns on a kill you thought might have been legitimate because your side cheated? Absolutely.

Maybe the mods didn't realize you were about to kill him again. You want to complain about not being warned to not kill a country that you just cheated to kill. OK, how about instead, your side doesn't cheat and cause massive problems for the admins. If that cheating doesn't happen, then we would have never been in this situation to begin with.


Now that the cheaters have been punished and your side has been inadvertently hurt by the cheating, you want to roll the whole game back. That might not be possible, and the risks of that sound pretty significant anyway. Why should we roll the game back to absolve your team from this inadvertent penalty?

To me it sounds like natural consequences. Don't like it? Maybe don't let your team cheat next time in the future.

Or maybe if they do cheat, and you realize it, you should come out publicly, right away, and say sorry. Rather than attempting to defend it, like i saw so many do.

You can't claim you were against the cheating when you guys never actually come on here and said 'hold up hold up, our guys cheated, we are sorry... we are going to pause our attacks and try to find a way to fix this situation'.


Instead, you have players from your alliance try to defend or explain away the cheating, acting like it's not a big deal. Or worse, accusing others of cheating, without evidence.


Ya'll are the bad guys here, and you're trying to act like the victims.

Dude.. what are you even talking about? You do realize we didn't play in team last round... right? Who the hell did you fight, and did you think it was us?

You used the 'by your logic' logic incorrectly.

At no point did I say that your entire team should be deleted. Derrick, help me out here buddy. I believe they call that a strawman logical fallacy, right?


What I'm saying is that your side DID cheat. A player thought his country was gone due to that cheating, and his actions after that point were taken with the knowledge that his country was deleted.

IF he did not know his country was reinstated, and then your alliance killed him again using legal mechanics, that is STILL unfair to him. As such, he should be reinstated, and allowed a chance to KNOW he was reinstated.

If your alliance lost resources due to that, you can blame your own players on your own alliance for that, as it's their fault, and ONLY their fault, that this entire situation occurred. You being mad at anyone other than your own alliance is silly.

The country was killed, and then reinstated and killed 2 hours later. Did the country owner that was killed even know the country was reinstated at the time of the 2nd kill? Were the servers functioning properly at that time so that the owner could even defend.

I think those are both relevant details in whether or not this was a legit kill. If someone in the evil empire alliance cheated to kill this country, and then his country was reinstated, but it was reinstated at a time he was unaware it was being reinstated, he should be afforded a certain amount of protection from future attacks until such time that he knows his country exists again.

Superfly, you're stating things like 'not pulling a laf and running 300 espionage ops' without having any proof that actually happened.


In other words, you're PURPOSEFULLY misleading everyone by saying something happened, that you previously have admitted you have no proof happened.


Your alliance cheated, demonstrably and provably. Yet rather than coming on here and apologizing for the extremely dirty moves they engaged in, you keep stating that LaF engaged in cheating, again, with absolutely no proof.


For the record, I was in the LaF chat when all of this happened. And I saw multiple people in LaF state not to exploit anything, as we were all figuring out that there were bugs. We then saw all the attacks on LaF people, and LaF once again said to not do what the cheaters were doing, to not stoop to their level.


I find this declaration that LaF also cheated completely inappropriate at this time. You're attempting to muddy the waters, when you know that you have no evidence they cheated. You're simply trying to poison the minds of others to distract from the obvious cheating that your side engaged in and then laughed about.

Every time the alliance of evil cheats, they ruin the game.


The kills on two of our sides members today were BLATANT cheating. Abusing a glitch in the game the way that they did to kill two members is as dirty as it fvcking gets.


Captain Control, this is the team you decided to join. Congratulations.

Did we quit? I'm sorry... I'm confused by what the word quit means? That's like saying the Allied powers quit in WW2 because they invaded Normandy and didn't fight where they were fighting.


We didn't quit, SuperCry. We simply punched you in the face from behind.

And now we're back right in front of your eyes. And we are going to punch you again. So get those tears ready.

hahahahah

Hahaahaahhaahahha you fluffs.


You waited until I went to sleep.


You know what? I'm going to have a conversation with my wife when she wakes up. I'm going to tell her something has to change. She can no longer be my #1 priority. There's this guy named Superfluff, and another named baby Simba, and they are bullying me. I can't sleep. I can't work. She's gonna have to take care of the house going forward. Cause these lunatics need to get taught a lesson.




Ugh, so frustrating. Ya'll killed me MINUTES after I logged off. You must have known, so now I'm going to have to rectify that.

Nice kill though. Gimme 2 days, I'll be back. If you're smart, you'll kill me again today.

Look SuperGuy - I know we suck. We all know The Resistance sucks. You don't have to keep telling us.


Buuuuuut......

https://imgur.com/a/CO8ytHr


Oh shoot. The Resistance is out hitting Apoc, Rage, and SoF on your side. We are running our own warchats (can rage, SoF, and APOC even run warchats?), and we are responsible for many big kills against you amaaaazzzzziiiinnnggg players.


Has LaF out performed us? Of course. They are SIGNIFICANTLY better.



But SuperGuy. I fluffed walled you guys two nights ago. So suck it. Bet you didn't think that could happen.


Honestly SuperGuy - I feel bad for you. It's like you've never seen someone get better right before your eyes. Every week you see me learn a new trick. It must be incredibly unsettling. Do you lay in bed at night wondering where my ceiling is. Or if I even have a ceiling?


Want to know something REALLY scary?

I've been teaching the rest of The Resistance newbies. Wait till they start learning the new tricks too!


Oh and the guy you killed last night? He literally JUST joined our clan. I knew he was going to die. It was a great learning experience for him, so thank you for that. He was absolutely awestruck that his 2mil turrets didn't save himself. I taught him about GS's.

Congratulations on that kill. Keep bragging about it. While you're patting yourself on the back for beating up newbies, I'll be training them to get all up in your @ss. You're gonna enjoy it.



Oh... one last thing. It's SUPER funny that you've gone from "LaF will never net again" to "You're not even killing us, LaF is".


Dude, that's what a loser says. You're the best warring clan in history. Stop acting like a loser.

What in the sh!t. You're screwing up the warstats on EEstats. I want to see how badly my alliance is crushing you guys, and I can't see fully updated stats cause of all the untagged''d'd we've had to kill and we can't account for properly.


Stop being little b!tches. We know who you are. Wear your tag and take your arse whooping like a big boy (or girl).

I'm going to humbly request that Superfly doesn't start another war with me. I'd really like to see what this whole 'netting' thing is. I've heard so much about it... but I have never had the pleasure of experiencing it.

We will see this time.

It wasn't guilty of conscience, it was reactions.

I'm constantly dodging attacks, left and right. I'm a bit flinchy bro.

OOP AB kicked your ass in alliance, why wouldn't we replicate that?

And just for the record SuperFly - this was never in doubt. We fully planned on coming back to Team after a round off.

We needed a few weeks to get organized. I know it doesn't seem like it, with the ass whooping we are giving you in alliance, but we are still a new clan. We aren't as good as you and sometimes need time to figure stuff out.

You're not allowed, Derrick. Neither is Coalie. And you can stick parity up SuperFly's @ss. It's gonna be crowded up there though, as we plan on putting a lot more than parity up there.

Requiem, I am not a cheater. I just didn't know all the rules initially. It's been like 40 days since I've last been deleted, so stop calling me a cheater!

Superguy - I can't come back to team because that's exactly what you want. And I'm never going to give you what you want.

Real Man - Your time away from the game has made you slow, and dumb.

You've lost the ability to see the strings that control the world.

I've heard rumors of your greatness, I've watched your videos. All I see is a child taking tiktok videos of themselves so they can live out their fantasy of being sponge bob.

Someone taught you how to use a video editor and splice clips together. But nobody ever taught you WHY you should splice clips together. Somebody showed you how to add audio overtop video, but nobody taught you how to select good, relevant, audio. Somebody taught you to use a filter on your face... and thank god they did, it protected us from having to see your ugly mug.


I've heard you speak of your greatness, but you're like some basketball players from the 70's acting like they can compete with Steph Curry and Lebron James.

B!tch please. You ain't got the athleticism to hang with the new age. You're a has been. There is a reason you won't come back, and it's not out of some deep seeded desire to please this alleged partner of yours. It's cause you're scared. You know that if you come back, that fragile reputation you've carefully cultivated will be cut down, likely by a bunch of newbies.


Your problem is that you desire to be loved too much. I've seen your Gladiator video. You want to win over the crowd, you want people to chant your name. You NEED to be adored. You can't handle not being adored.


That is your weakness. You care what people think. That weakness is what prohibits you from attaining true greatness. You lack the freedom to truly act as you wish, as you worry about the reactions of those you yearn to please.


The Resistance is your antithesis. We do not seek adoration as you do. We seek blood. We do not care about the consequences. Chastise us, hate us, but blood comes all the same.


We can do what you cannot, as we do not fear rejection. We thrive in rejection.


Real Man, you're a real fraud. The history books are a lie and I will rewrite them.


Come out of retirement. Don your name in the alliance server once more, prove me wrong. Don't hide behind some fake account or fake country name either. Put your money where your mouth is. Be a REAL MAN.


I am Black Hole. Country #543. I don't wear a mask and I don't hide behind forum banter. I am out there, in the battlefields, showing the world why I am what you can never be.


As I said to Derrick, if you don't have the sack to get in the fight, you don't have the right to talk sh!t on the forums. Step up to the plate or get the fvck outta my stadium, real boy.



TLDR: Watch the video below to learn all about Chev.

"I'm a real boy" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBTwgUwf76A

Skip to 1:25 if you have a short attention span.

BigP. You're too good man. We don't let good players in. This team has a reputation to uphold. We are terrible players. Suiciders and griefers, that's all we can do. We can't have people in our clan that can wall and kill and fluff.

We wouldn't let you in anyway!

I know I know!


I did try to warn you. Next time someone messages you Boo! you should take it seriously.

2023-03-07 21:36:53 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 24C 197 F
2023-03-07 21:36:53 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 25C 197 F
2023-03-07 21:36:52 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 28C 197 F
2023-03-07 21:36:52 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 32C 198 F
2023-03-07 21:36:51 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 38C 198 F
2023-03-07 21:36:51 GS THE Black Hole (#543) JL nuget apor (#396) Apoc 46C 199 F


There are plenty more. Just don't feel like copy/pasting them all.


You think I was going to miss out on an opportunity to get revenge on you for killing me?!?


Sweetie pie. We have a retal policy over here at The Resistance you may not be aware of.

You kill us, we haunt you forever.

Congratulations. Welcome to the sh!tshow.

Hey nuget -

Booo!

- With love.

Superfly the Superguy did this to me on 2/9/23.


2023-02-09 03:38:18 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 73A (83A)
2023-02-09 03:38:09 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 93A (114A)
2023-02-09 03:38:01 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) DH
2023-02-09 03:37:52 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 142A (195A)
2023-02-09 03:37:16 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 172A (256A)
2023-02-09 03:37:06 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 203A (330A)
2023-02-09 03:36:59 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 236A (423A)
2023-02-09 03:36:51 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 257A (516A)
2023-02-09 03:36:42 SS 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) Black Hole (#76) 261A (534A)




Later that day, he had a NW of 14.7m. His country was firmly in the top 10, and he was on his way to another beautiful finish.

2023-02-09 14:20:02 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver $14,757,471 16,255 acres HG



On the 9th, I begin my fight against Superfly the Superguy. It didn't go well for me initially. I was getting tapped by countries from every direction. After his hit on me, my economy was in rough shape. I was quite far behind. And to make matters worse, I didn't know who I was actually fighting. I just knew I needed revenge.


Superfly the Superguy peaked on 2/18/23 with NW of 21mil. By this point he was starting to fall a little behind the top countries, but still doing good.

2023-02-18 05:20:01 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver $21,195,941 14,976 acres HG

Over the last month of fighting Superfly the Superguy, I've learned a lot. I owe this man a great deal of gratitude, as I have had the opportunity to learn how to fight a bigger and stronger opponent.


This is where Superfly the Superguy is this morning.

2023-03-07 12:55:01 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver $12,162,007 11,298 acres FG

As you can see, he's fallen off about 50% from his rounds high NW, and he's about 2mil NW less than where he started when he attacked me nearly a month ago.


I expect that NW to drop a little more before the round ends. That's my goal at least. But Superfly is vastly superior to me, so I wouldn't be surprised to see him pull a rabbit out of his arse and jump back up into the top 10. I don't quite understand how this netting game works. Maybe he's been playing me the whole round!



I don't really know how to evaluate winners and losers of a war, but here's an interpretation I came up with.

At the onset of him surprise assaulting me, I had a NW of just over 5mil.

2023-02-09 00:10:02 Black Hole $5,396,169 10,649 acres DG

Today I have a NW of 4mil.

2023-03-07 13:10:01 Black Hole $4,027,161 3,670 acres DG

I'm down about 25.6% from my NW at the start of the war.


Superfly by the same metrics is only down 17.6% of his total NW.



So I guess, unless I'm able to pull off something great over the next few days, I've lost.


I want to thank Superfly for the lessons, though.


The lessons in subterfuge. The lessons in deception, as he told me he was Coalie. And the lessons in insults, as I was crying most of the round from the very mean things he said to me. I'll share some of the highlights below, so you can all enjoy.

Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 09, 16:56
Report this message
This is Coalie, you wanted some of me? Well now you got all 11 inches of me and you are going to like it.

My nick name is the penetrator....



Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 05, 3:31
Report this message
Big talk from a guy with big meat curtains….


Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 16, 5:49
Report this message
Holly crap you are annoying!


Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 18, 15:22
Report this message
I am glad to see that I was right about you and your resistance. You couldn’t even hack it 2 rounds. All that talk for your team to disappear lol

Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 21, 0:40
Report this message
Buzz off already I can’t even hit your country cuz it’s so small and crappy

Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 25, 20:46
Report this message
Piss off noob

Message from 1977 Datsun 280Z Daily Driver (#31) sent on Feb 25, 20:46
Report this message
Lol love u



Well Superfly the Superguy. I love you too. I realize all you've done for me since December. You've helped prepare me for what I will face in the future. I may not be ready, but I am content with what the future holds. I am looking forward to the next round in primary, will I will take my lessons learned from Superfly the Superguy and apply them to whatever situation I find myself in with whomever wants to corner me in a back alley and have their way with me.


You might rape me. But I'm gonna bite off your fluff in the process.

We will never be a part of anything. We are our own thing. Nothing else can handle us.

No. You must drink it.

To my knowledge, gains has never spoken positively about us. As such, his reputation is untarnished.

They don't want us.

We have no money.

Have you ever dreamed of being part of something special? Something amazeballs? Something so noteworthy, wikipedia articles will be written about you?



Well some of those things are true here.

The Resistance is special, in a way. I don't know about amazeballs, maybe just balls. If a wikipedia article is written about us, I have a feeling it will be veeeeery long, and filled with bullfluff.





But nonetheless, we are recruiting. The requirements are as follows:

1. You must be ok with losing. In fact, you must enjoy it. You're going to die, and you're going to like it.
2. You must have no desire to do things the right way. We do things the wrong way here, and I'll be damned if anyone is going to come in and change our ways.
3. You must be unwaveringly loyal. If we ask you to do something stupid, like hit someone in a solo server, and you know you're going to get deleted. You MUST do it. In fact, if you get purple'd on your own accord, we will be really happy with you. Purple is our favorite color.
4. Are you good at making friends? Well FVCK YOU. We only want people that can make enemies. Don't be all up in here like Capt Control, being diplomatic, making friends, trying to learn how to play the game the 'right way'. You have to come in here putting your worst foot forward. Slap your mom as you walk through the door. Show us you mean business.
5. Are you good at recruiting other, low quality, humans? PERFECT. We need as many of them as possible. The Resistance is built on throwing sh!t at... well everything. Throw it at the forums. Throw it at you in a war. Throw it on IRC. We throw it everywhere. So we need a lot of it. If you can get more, we want you on our team!



You can audition here, please provide an example of why we should consider you. Also note, if you have any positive reputation in this game, whatsoever, we WILL NOT accept you. You will be added to our hate list, and we will send you piss in a bottle for Christmas.


Good luck everyone!

Ya'll killed me fast. 14 Seconds. Nicely done. I'll try to do better next time.

Derrick, can you not count? There are more than two people posting in this thread.

Have you posted sucky sucky 158 times? If so, I am incredibly impressed.

Captain - if you want competition, you're on the wrong side. You joined the side that has been dominating everyone and is the 'best warring clan ever'.

All you've done is give them another player. They don't need more players, they need people willing to fight them. If you actually want competition start your own clan and recruit people to fight them.

Deception? You want to talk about deception? You're the one who took my name on Express and proceeded to attack APOC members.

Deception? LOL. You don't get to talk about deception. You've got Derrick in here basically admitting your time lives off deception and I need to not get 'upsetty spaghetti' over it.


You can't lecture me on deception.