Found this game on another writer's site and I was blown away: freaking awesome! Anyone wants to play with me? It's easy: Imagine a hill. Any hill. I am going to stand on top of it. This is my hill. Not yours. Mine. Solely mine. If you can push me off with words, it becomes yours. You can create whatever you like to try. Stories, people, puppies, fairies, weapons or chocolate—I don't care. Though alternate realities and destroying the hill are forbidden. Do anything you like, do your worst. I'm going to defend my hill. Each shuffle ends with the words 'My hill'. So. I start. The sun shines. Butterflies are dancing. A merlin circles overhead. A little rabbit sniffs the spring in the air. I sit down - on My Hill!
Unfortunately it is a Rolls Royce Merlin propelling my Spitfire. A swift rat-a-tat and it is- My Hill!
I crouch down with a sniper's rifle, sneak around the back of the hill and stealthily, slowly, carefully take aim. Shoot! My Hill!
Haha, how quickly this turned into kids playing with toy guns "you missed!", "No, you missed!" Unfortunately you mistook a rubber duck for a sniper's rifle and it let's out a feeble squeak. In shock you rolled down your hill. It had been snowing, and the snow gathered around you as you moved at blistering speed towards the town in the valley. You hit it like a giant snowball hitting ten-pins and the timber huts crumbled. The peasants emerged from the ruins bearing pitch-forks and stabbed them into the giant ball of snow until it was stained pink. When the snow had melted they quartered the lifeless body and paid merchants to carry each part to the farthest regions of the land. My God, that got a bit dark. Meanwhile, I watched while sipping a fine Chianti from My Hill!
Doubly unfortunately for you, you didn't check if the seal on the chianti was unbroken.. well that was your one and only mistake, Mister! Before my assault I went to the Amazonas and spent three years with the natives, learned how to milk the poison from the little green frogs with yellow and red stripes (surely you know which ones I mean? If not, too bad for you). They made me a honorary member of their tribe. Once armed with the poison, I went back, and, in full knowledge that you would bask in the warm glow of your victory, inserted a few little drops into the bottle. Well, to watch you twitch was certainly delightful. I give your corpse a contemptuous kick and it rolls down from My Hill!
I paratroop down from above, kicking you in the head as I land. You tumble, unconscious, down My Hill.
I charge a stampede of longhorn cattle up the slope (like the final scene from Chissum) driving you off my hill (I then wave at Caden and offer to share my hill if she's 'very nice' to me )
