As an adult, I hate losing even more.
That is why last night's battle with Chitunga and Dylan stung me so much. I don't mind building armies and protecting territories, but I hate being on the defensive.
This, of course, is exactly what was begun because Sauron aka Darth Vader aka Voldermort aka Hitler aka Stalin aka Dylan decided to take over the world in one evil plot after another. And the #$@#$#@ was successful.
Chitunga and I did what we could to join forces and at one point thought we could stop his axis of evil, but in the end the dice were on his side and he out-rolled us. War, which is a risk, is also a battle of luck and luck was on the emperor of Doom's side.
This, of course, reminded me of all the games of Risk we used to play as pre-teens: days of wiffleball, kickball, WWF wrestling, Hide and Go Seek, swimming, Sardines, and football on Bam Hollow, Amalfi, and Duncowing Drive.
These games, of course, seems like they were played only yesterday, but a good 30 years have passed. Even so, I feel the same burst of adrenaline burning through my blood when see another winning a game over me. I hate it. It's my totalitarian nature that I try to hide at all costs!
And it was Christmas....nothing like a holy holiday to remind me of how unholy I actually am (well, Dylan...the monster destroyer of humanity and nations).
At least we have Friday today to recover. I hate to tell him, but I'm working with my own storm troopers being manufactured on the side so I can come back and kick him off the planet.