Ten health, twelve damage needed to close out the game, and three cards in my hand. Boy was I in dire straits.
I needed the bodies in the field anyway. I played the one three drop in my hand: a 5/2 pug with breathing issues. A rather vanilla body, sure, but it was something that could not be denied meaningfully by his Dingy dingo.
He could heal a bit more before I died, and if I wanted to win, keeping him on the defensive seemed imperative. I played Rampugge on the pugfessor, turning him in an unblockable 5/2 for the turn and drawing a card. And ooh baby what a good card it was. Now I just needed two more kibble and a card to discard.
I attacked with pugfessor, who loitered up to The Warden and gave him the thick licc.
WARDEN: 7
MAURO: 10
The rest of my units needed to remain in reserve to block. I wasn’t in a position to be the aggressor anymore. If I wanted to win, I had to leverage every resource I had, including hp. One health point left by the turn I’d play GLTDO would be enough, but I needed to make sure I had that health point left. I had four blockers, he had four units: I was well-covered on that front. Still, I was four discards away from dying, with the current board.
I drew from my kibble deck and ended my turn.
The Warden looked at his cards in hand and played another Dingy Dingo. Once again, a card got discarded from the bottom of my deck. Once again, the wolves howled and the thread formed and pulsed.
WARDEN: 8
MAURO: 7
“Those tables turn to much they scare off Flat-Earthers,” he commented before investing and drawing from his deck.
“What’s everybody’s problem with Flat-Earthers here? They seem to take more flak than the one they deserve. It’s no crime to be stupid.”
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“I once spent until a motherfucker starved trying to prove to him Earth was round. Most productive day of my life, not gonna lie, but still…”
“I get it, I get it. I play Spugcialist.”
He denied spugcialist’s damage with his most stacked Dingy Dingo.
I could attack with everything now. Meanwhile math was generally for blockers, I had to consider the following: PFP was going to die at the end of the turn. That would leave me with four units, which meant I could take one point of damage if he attacked with everything.
I attacked with PFP and the attack went through, the dog crashing against the Warden’s face and then going to sleep.
WARDEN: 6
MAURO: 7
He didn’t block, which indicated me The Warden thought I had some kind of pump spell to use as a battle trick. Or he was a bit too trusting in his dingoes’ capacity to stop my direct burn.
In any case, there was nothing I could do but hope he didn’t play some utterly degenerate discard spell. Then again, “utterly degenerate discard spell” is a pleonasm.
I played my kibble card, Yarddug mindlessly, invested and drew from my deck. If I survived this turn, the match was won. What would he do now? What horrors would he unleash? How would The Warden torture me to claim his rightful victory?
“I have seen less bricks in a construction site.” He mumbled before investing and drawing from his deck.
I discarded an expusive to play God left the door open.
“Not so fast.” The Warden exclaimed, Holding out the surrender card.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to surrender!”
“I can as long as no play of mine can avoid defeat and it is anticlimactic!”
“You wouldn’t dare! I drew my out and I deserve to play it!”
But my pleas fell on deft ears. The spell animation played concomitantly with the Collies flooding the arena. Pugs and collies looked at each other, confused, and the latter beat my units with the letter signs, making the round pugs roll on their side or get upside down like turtles reminiscing all of their life due to… a less than fortunate situation.
I V Y C O R T they spelt, the signs still drenched in the blood and slobber of my innocent pugs.
“Do you wish to proceed to the next match now? Or shall we allow ourselves a little rest?” asked the Warden.
“A pause would be welcome. Can we talk about your hobbies?”
“Gladly!” He said, and after the game field vanished, we had a heart to heart. In it I learned The Warden was fond of knitting, true crime documentaries, sewing, and defending Pinochet’s government online. A real G of a metallic dog.
After the rest, I managed to get to stage fifteen before getting my ass whooped.
And so we spent that evening, playing and laughing. Sometimes I reached stages above ten, sometimes I even touched stage 20 just for a boss deck to demolish me. By the end of it, I was exhausted after several hours of playing, but, checking my balance, I couldn’t be happier.
GOOD BOY POINTS (GBP): 1302
OMNITREATS: 0