Evil Homer: The Ruiner of Fun

Evil Homer; my nemesis.

Evil Homer; the man, the myth, the legend (in my digital, green with envy mind, in any case)...

...and on Saturday last week, he became The Ruiner of Fun.

...

What?  Details?

Pish and tosh.  I suppose so.

What does this picture have to do with the article?  Not much, I suppose, but I'm not sure this article has much to do with anything.  I took my long-suffering wife to Dallas two weeks ago to see the new Cabaret at the Wyly, and this is the suite we stayed in.  As you can see, I never get very far from Strictly Average.

I suppose I'd better back off the 'Evil Homer is bad' motif I've played with thus far, because the incident I'm about to relate certainly wasn't his fault.  In fact, I'm glad it was him that Ruined My Fun.

Don't go feeling sorry for Evil Homer.  He's not the type to get butt-hurt over being the Ruiner of Fun, assuming Brent meant it directly rather than indirectly.

...

He's wasting an awful lot of time.  I guess this bugs him.

Mmm... I lost some time somewhere.  Anyway, I was playing my Bugs! in the local 1500 point tournament.  Work was a *SELF-EDIT* that day, and I'd already had to make one trip out to the hospital; I was running short on time, so I grabbed an army list I'd used two weeks ago and threw the models in my box (you can read that as 'placed them gently in the box,' thank you) and ran out the door.

Consequently, I was playing a Bugs! list with three Carnibugs in a brood, backed up by a Tervibug who gave them Feel No Pain.  The list also included three 10-strong units of GeneBugs with a Broodbug each and some flying Rippers to top it all off.

It was a sucky list, I know, but I've always in the past been able to play a sucky list and still have fun.  I was under no illusions about winning the tournament, but I thought I'd at least have fun.

See where this is going?

I played a new player in Round 1, so the game was never in doubt.  I basically put on my 'help the new player' hat and walked him gently through the game.  The max points I earned was less about my army and more about my opponent - no shame on him, of course.  We were all new once.

Then I played Evil Homer and his Mech Dark Eldar army.  I new I wouldn't win, but I thought I'd at least make it a fight, right?

Right?

...

Well, *SELF-EDIT*!  If all of you knew that, why didn't someone tell me?

For those three players who may not understand what Brent is referring to, suffice it to say he should have known what everyone else already does... lopsided ass-kickings are never fun.

I had to learn the hard way that lopsided ass-kickings are never fun.  Er, deja vu, anyone?

It wasn't that it wasn't fun, it's that it SO WASN'T FUN... you dig?

Despite being The Ruiner of Fun, I'm glad I played Evil Homer, because he didn't a) try to make something that wasn't fun, fun, or b) patronize me about it.  He threw down the quickest beating he could.  It was like ripping the band-aid off a scab partially covering an open wound.

It sucked then it still sucked, but at least it was fast.  I really appreciated that.

So where do I go from here?

Well, I finally learned a lesson I should have learned a long time ago - a lesson I suspect the locals have been trying to impart for a long, long time: I can't always get by playing grossly inferior lists and count on my skill to get me through.

The game has moved on.  So should I.

Not sure where that leaves me with my Bugs! army.  I'm not giving up just yet, but at the same time I'm not convinced I'll be ready to play them at a high level this tournament season.

I may go with Plan B... not that I can quite remember what Plan B is...

Stop! Vile, evil plan in the works!

Plan B is Secret, and Evil.  It's so secret, so vile, Brent is not actually privy to the details.  In fact, it's my plan.  It's Not Brent's Secret, Evil Plan B.


It's a disgusting beatstick of an army... so I need to make some purchases.  More to come.

I have a headache now - not sure why...