It’s that time of year again where the number of public intoxication charges I receive directly correlates with how much time I spend in proximity to the family, so I figured I might as well sneak away for a few hours with some pilfered alcohol to spend some time thinking about the true meaning of Thanksgiving.
For those of you who don’t celebrate Turkey Day due to geographical reasons, consider this just another excuse for me to drink excessively and hammer away at random keys on the computer, i.e., business as usual.
Because I possess the creativity of a tax accountant with depression, I had a hard time coming up with a Thanksgiving-themed game and matching liquor. Having nowhere to turn save for the comforts of the rest of the writing staff, it was suggested by none other than our own lovely Gwynn that I imbibe the traditional favorite, Cranberry-Vodka. Since my diet consistently lacks fruit and I probably teeter on diagnosable scurvy, I decided this, paired with a custom map from Age of Empires II, would work suitably well as a festive installment.
Sips Taken: 1
Age of Empires II, while a great game overall with a wonderfully entertaining map editor, didn’t include native Americans and European colonists, so I decided to make do by using the Mayans and Britons, respectively. Because this may rub some of you sensitive folk the wrong way, I’ve been advised by way of a ten foot pole and a sticky note to let all of you know that my actions and views don’t necessarily reflect those of GIZORAMA in general. With that being said, I think I deserve a pat on the back for making ends meet and bringing cultures together.
With the consideration of moral implications out of the way, I set forth to construct a map that resembled Plymouth, Massachusetts in the 1600s. I’m going off of some vague memory of a trip I took to the East Coast once, and while that trip took place in Florida, I think I did a pretty good job with my ocean and tree arrangements nonetheless. A dash of sheep here, a sprinkle of turkeys there, and a hint of wild horses brought the whole dish together, and I soon had a map worthy of the spirit of Thanksgiving.
Sips Taken: 5
Because it’s an event in history that still serves as a point of contention among dusty historians, no one can tell me I’m wrong for having four hundred and fifty-seven soldiers under my command during the settling of Plymouth. For those of you that disagree, prove me wrong and then shut up. As I organize my ranks and explore the nearby rivers and inlets from the ocean, I came across native scouts, searching for weak points in my camp’s defenses. This cannot go unpunished, so I draw first blood.
The vodka to my cranberry comes in a skull-shaped bottle (which is necessary, since the liquor itself tastes like Russian sweat), and I’ve determined that, with enough willpower and bathroom breaks, I WILL be able to finish the whole thing like the grown up my license keeps telling me I am.
Sips Taken: 9
Through diligent scouting and the “marco” cheat, I see that there are four native tribes to the west of my camp, and though I sent in an emissary to invite them to a thanksgiving feast, I’ve only been met by utter hostility and sharp arrows. Assuming the role of the Briton with all the knowledge of someone who only vaguely remembers history class, I decided that a foot must be planted firmly to make my point. I rally a small contingency of longbow archers and trample a few houses to the ground. If they won’t love me, maybe they’ll fear me!
On another note, I seemed to have docked a ship or two on shore, and while I can’t get them back to the open ocean, they do seem to operate quite well on the sand dunes. I’m keeping it.
Sips Taken: 13
Wow, they are freaking organized. I ended up barricading myself in and stoning up the walls around the camp, and in my boredom/paranoia, I glanced across the map to see what impact my show of force had. I’m starting to think that a culture capable of constructing seventeen castles in under ten minutes may be a bit tougher to overcome than I originally thought. It may be possible that I’m starting to regret ambushing all their scouting parties.
Shots have been fired. Amongst the small pockets of fighting here and there, someone made off with all my camp’s turkeys. I can’t let this stand, a direct assault is the only possible answer.
…But will it be enough?
Sips Taken: 17
…I’ve lost so many. It’s a bloody war of attrition. They know the land better than my soldiers, they even command the very animals with an understanding I am ignorant of (possibly due to the fact that I tried eating all the animals). I don’t know how to win. They’ve even copied my trebuchet and siege weapon designs.
I’ve exhausted both my military strategy and this repulsive head-vodka. The only thing left is to recreate the sad truth of what really turned the tide in the Thanksgiving-Gone-Wrong-War.
This brings me no joy:
*Opens up chat box, types* “Black Death” *pushes enter*
“You Are Victorious!”
The Aftermath
Though it took nearly a whole cranium full of vodka, half a bag of cranberries, and two hours, I think I finally realized what Thanksgiving is all about. The true message isn’t about getting together and sharing a meal or recognizing and accepting differences. It isn’t about the pilgrims and natives and their first encounters with one another. No, Thanksgiving, as I’ve learned today, is really about one simple message: Get vaccinated.
Wait..no, that can’t be right. Oh, they’re serving dessert? Screw it, I’m out!
Regardless of the holiday’s true meaning, I hope you all have a wonderful day, and I hope to hear from you in the comments!
Oh, and Happy Vaccination-giving Day!
