Introduction
Welcome one and all to the first interesting guest post of the BHO (sorry Lee) and the first legible post in the BHO's history (not sorry Chris, a room full of monkeys with typewriters could and in fact have written better drivel than you churn out like so much spoiled butter. Not to mention the fact they don't fling half as much shit as our head honcho).
Let me bend your ear for a while as I regale the oh so fascinating tale of how an innocent young thing like myself was pushed, pulled and coerced into the den of iniquity that is the BHO.
Part 1 - Innocence Lost
One fine evening, while I was sat at home, watching Christian broadcasts on the television and reading scripture like any good boy should, my phone chirped with a little "beep beep". I did not know it then, but this was no sweet songbird here to share its song, this was the quiet hiss of temptation. Slithering like the snake in Eden, the Devil was calling to collect his due and I was fool enough to pay.
"Ey up, me old mucker" read the text on my phone. So the Devil hails from God's Own Country. How ironic.
"Have you ever heard of a game called Yahtzee?" Just like that the seeds were sown and in no time at all their roots took hold in my soul and buried deep. It wouldn't be much longer before they bore fruit and my immortal soul was forever stained with the filth of Sin. In fact, all it took was a single throw and as I cast the dice into the infernal Yahtzee board, I also cast out my innocence and threw my lot in with Satan.
A thrilling first game where I took 1st place with a last minute yahtzee began an addiction that opium and amphetamines could only dream of. I stopped attending my weekly church service in favour of the BHO and all it had to offer. What joy and comfort could an immaterial God offer me in comparison to the euphoria of a game-winning Yahtzee?
I replaced the blood and body of Christ with the sweet tipple of a crisp cider. Why get drunk on 'the Lord' when you can just get drunk? Thus continued my unholy ascension into the ranks of the BHO and with every heartfelt victory and every crushing defeat, the barbs of the evil growing within me sunk deeper and deeper, intertwining with the very fibre of my being.
Now I am one with the BHO, indistinguishable from the others around the table as we drink, roll, pass the board. Drink, roll, pass the board. Drink, roll, pass the board. A ragtag group of reprobates caught in an endless toil of degenerate debauchery to sate the BHO's appetite. Alas, the more the beast is fed, the hungrier it becomes, until one day I fear we will all be devoured.
Part 2 - Envy
"That boy has the luck of the devil".
Thus came the dark mutterings of my competition. A phrase I am well accustomed to hearing around the Yahtzee board these days, but nonetheless it painted a satisfied smirk on my face as I scooped up my remaining two dice and prepared to roll again. The dice left behind: numbered 6-6-6. In days past I would have reviled that number. An ungodly number. The number of the beast. Now I only see Three of a Kind. I roll my dice: 1-1. Snake eyes. An old superstition that promises bad luck but I baulk at the notion. I make my own luck. I pluck up the eyes and make my final roll: 6-6. An uproar at the table heralds my Yahtzee and I sink back in my chair, content. Lady Luck giveth and Lady Luck taketh away!
The Lady and I have a complex relationship. I cannot help but feel as though I am favoured in her eyes. Too many times have I snatched victory from the jaws of defeat to be explained away by mere coincidence. Despite this, I am yet to have any tournament wins under my belt and the coveted Champion's badge that comes as proof of the title eludes me still. This is another such occasion. While my victory was absolute and thoroughly satisfying, it was ultimately bittersweet because while the battle was won, the war had already been lost. In this most recent Yahtzee league, despite a stellar performance, I was bested once more by an infuriatingly, preternaturally lucky Welsh couple who must possess both the luck of the devil and whatever paltry deities Wales has to offer.
The badge that by all rights should have been mine, found its way into the grasp of one so arrogant as to demand to be called "Her Grace". I for one shall not be bending the knee. One shiny bauble does not a queen make, however shiny and desirable that bauble may be... Relish your victory while you still have the will to roll the dice, my time will come for a sweeping victory, the likes of which have never been nor ever will be seen again. As surely as the sun rises each day and darkness blots the sky each night, I will be Champion. It is only a matter of time.
Part 3 - A Glimmer of Hope
With a new Champions league on the horizon, the future holds renewed hope and new opportunities to make manifest my destiny. My prowess in the last competition has earned me a seat at the table with the other top-scorers who bested me. A perfect chance to seek vengeance and claim my prize in one fell swoop. Or perhaps not. Another power is rising, the ramifications of which may shatter the very foundations of the BHO as we know it. Another board game has begun to capture the hearts and minds of the BHO. An older game, archaic in fact, with a much richer and storied history than the comparatively infantile game of Yahtzee. A game played without the deceitful tools of a greedy casino or a sinful gambling house. There are no dice at all in this game. Instead its playing pieces are of a more virtuous sort: the zealous pawn, the venerable bishop, the steadfast rook, the holy knight and the pious king and queen. Chess.
Lee, one of the founding fathers of our dear organisation, was the first to be seduced and bring such heresy to the BHO. At first I could not think of participating in such a treasonous act, but the idea of dominating the field in two games was growing on me. I played a match with Lee. Then another. I even tried my luck against Chris, the head of the BHO, who had also been seduced. The more I played, the more Chess began laying its own barbs into me, just as Yahtzee had. Except this felt different than before. Perhaps chess is not a barbed seductress, but a righteous, cleansing force instead. Perhaps what I have been feeling is the wicked grasp of Yahtzee weakening, losing its hold over me.
As I toe the line between Chess and Yahtzee, Salvation and Damnation, the path ahead is unclear, but what I do know is this. Whatever the future holds for the BHO, and whatever board I find myself sitting at, I will face it gladly because the BHO is my home and this is where I belong.
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