The scene: Me with a foam orange gun pointed at my mouth. "People are always asking me if I know Malloc"
Malloc: "Three minutes. This is it Trashfest 2008 ground zero. Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?"
Me: "i.. ann.. iinn.. fff.. nnyin..."
Me: "With a Cash n' Gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels"
Me: "I can't think of anything. For a second I totally forgot about Malloc and Trashfest and I wonder how clean that gun is."But let me step back a few steps. Back 20 years ago I loved playing games like Risk, Diplomacy and Nuke War. But than I got a real job, a real wife and real kids. For 10 long years from 1992 - 2002, I didn't play games because I thought adults weren't suppose to play games. I even tried to play golf for God sakes. I felt like this was life. You were born, you got married and you die.
Spring forward 2002. For six months? I couldn't sleep. Couldn't sleep, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sleep? With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy, of a copy, of a copy. Somebody told me you need a boring hobby.
That's when I started going to Eurogame nights and I met Bob Paulson. Bob has cube of confusion cancer. Bob's testicles were removed when he started playing Euros now he's middle aged bald and he developed bitch tits because his estrogen and passive aggressive level was too high. But after I started playing Eurogames I started sleeping like a baby, before, during and after a game. I would search out Eurogames all over Maryland, that is until she showed up. Ubarose showed up at a Eurogame night.
Ubarose: "Your whacked out bald Euro freaks hit me with a fucking provost! They almost broke my arm! They we're burning their fingertips with lye and indigo the stink was unbelievable!"
Ubarose wasn't a Eurogamer she was Euro poser. She didn't have cube of confusion. Uba didn't like elegant mechanics and she definitely didn't need no stinking victory points. She was ruining Caylus night for me. That's when I switch games.
I sat down at a Twilight Imperium 3 board next to this guy named Malloc.
Malloc "Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm? "
Me: "No. I did not know that. Is that true?"
Malloc: "That's right; one can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items to blow up Zombies and other Supernatural Undead."
Me: "Did you know Wallace uses the same part in all his games and Reiner Knizia uses the same mathematical formula for all his games."
Malloc: 'That's clever. How's clever working for you?'
Malloc: "Hit me as hard as you can."
Me: "It's only the first turn of Ti3, that wouldn't be optimal for me to attack on the first turn."
Malloc: "Ok, if your not going to attack me, I'm going to attack you and blow up your carrier."
My carrier was destroyed but I was alive for the first time in 15 years. I realized it was ok to have conflict and randomness in games. This is how Fight Club started. Malloc told me about his bothers secret Wednesday night game night. After a night of killing Zombies and blowing up aliens at fight club, everything in the real world gets the volume turned down. Nothing can piss you off. Your word is law, and if other people break that law or question you, even that doesn't piss you off.
Over the last 6 months, we learned a lot from Malloc at Fight Club:
Malloc: ""Gentlemen! Welcome to Fight Club. The 1st rule of fight club is you don't talk about Fight Club. The 2nd rule of Fight Club is you Do Not talk about Fight Club. The 3rd rule of Fight Club is that player elimination is cool. The 4th rule of Fight Club no cubes, no auctions, no favors, no farming. The 5th rule of Fight Club is fights will go on as long as they have to. We don't limit our fights to 60 - 90 minutes like some Euros."
Malloc: "You're not your workers. You"re not how much gold pieces you have. You're not the amount of victory point you have. You're not the contents of your farm. You're not your fucking khakis or mismatch socks. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."
Malloc: "Painting a cube yellow doesn't make it chicken."
Next thing I know Malloc and Ubarose were starting something called Fortress Ameritrash. However, Fortress Ameritrash was only the beginning, now it's moved out of the basement and off the internet, now it's called Trashfest 2008 or Project Mayhem.
We have front row seats for this theater of mass destruction called Trashfest 2008. The demolition committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a the Days Inn in Maryland with Splash Damage gelatin. In two days, this place will be filled with Haccan, Zerg, Zombies, Dracula, Army men and Gangsters. We're taking over the former home of Euroquest and reducing it to smoldering rubble. I know this... because Malloc knows this.
In April 2009, we plan on taking over some kind of gathering in Columbus, Ohio then in November, we plan on taking over something called BGG in Dallas. I know this...because Malloc knows this.