How the Game Began
Let’s talk about how everything started.
Publicly, the game was marketed as a noble effort to help an individual achieve the relationship he wanted. A touching mission, really. Almost charitable.
In reality, however, it was something else entirely.
Behind the curtain, the plan was to break the individual and strip him of his dignity through smear campaigns, psychological attacks, and even illegal spying inside his own home—just to collect his private secrets and use them as weapons against him.
A wholesome social project, as you can see.
The Rules of the Game
The game itself was simple.
Two teams.
One team would represent “good.”
The other would represent “evil.”
One team would chase the individual with the stick, while the other would tempt him with the carrot.
Classic strategy: break him or make him kneel. Either outcome was considered a success.
The Warlock’s Role
The spoiled warlock took the role of representing a certain woman. He confidently promised her that he would eventually bring the individual to her kneeling.
His method? Attack the individual in every city where his cult had influence.
Unfortunately for him, reality proved less cooperative than his imagination.
Since he kept failing to deliver on his grand promise, he eventually started compensating the woman with money. He also began meeting her in what could generously be described as not-so-innocent meetings, where he entertained himself by touching her and engaging in various forms of “light social interaction.”
After all, one must keep the client satisfied while the product is still… pending.
The Other Team
On the opposite side stood another fascinating character: the so-called King of Masons in Mickey Mouse Land.
The chosen king of the enslaved masons.
Despite his impressive collection of hypocrisies—and his well-known enthusiasm for drugs and women—he apparently still believes he is working for the forces of light.
At least that is what the legend says.
And legends, as we all know, are rarely interrupted by reality.
The Trap
The strategy was beautifully simple.
The dummy warlock would use the stick—constant attacks meant to break the individual.
Meanwhile, the so-called king would use the carrot, seducing the individual and encouraging him to kneel voluntarily.
Breaking or kneeling—either way, the teams would win, and the individual would lose his dignity and spirit.
A perfectly balanced system, from their perspective.
The Real Prize
What was the reward for such a noble operation?
Money.
Lots of money.
It was essentially a gamble. Anyone within their circles could place bets on which team would succeed.
Breaking an individual they had never met and knew nothing about was apparently both profitable and entertaining.
And when money and entertainment combine, morality tends to take a vacation.
The Warlock’s Brilliant Investment Strategy
Naturally, the dummy warlock also decided to invest in the game.
After all, why merely manipulate events when you can also bet on them?
To improve his chances, he deployed his brainless followers as ammunition in the psychological war against the individual.
A bold strategy, considering the limited intellectual resources involved.
The Blame Game
As time passed and the individual stubbornly refused to break, the warlock and his followers began complaining about something truly outrageous.
The individual was being sarcastic.
Imagine the audacity.
While refusing to collapse under pressure, he also had the nerve to mock the entire operation. Naturally, this offended the delicate sensibilities of the cult.
Their solution? Threaten him with court.
Which, frankly, makes perfect sense. If the leader is a dummy, one cannot expect the followers to suddenly become philosophers.
The Game That Wouldn’t End
The game was set, and it was not the first time they had played it.
But this time there was a small, inconvenient problem.
The individual did not break on schedule.
To keep the game alive, the dummy warlock and others had to place more money on the table.
Still, the individual refused to break.
So more money was added.
And more.
Eventually, the dummy warlock had placed almost everything he owned into the game.
A remarkable display of commitment—or stupidity, depending on your perspective.
The Problem of Losing
After the inevitable failure—something obvious to everyone except the dummy warlock—the participants realized they now had a problem.
They were supposed to pay the individual a large amount of money.
Naturally, none of them liked this idea.
So they began inventing excuses.
Sometimes the story was that they were “training him to learn how to handle money.”
Other times they were “testing him to ensure he would not become a danger to society.”
Not only was the creativity impressive, but the individual was almost moved by their overwhelming display of concern.
The Audience
Meanwhile, the crowd applauded and enjoyed the show.
Apparently, the individual’s right to privacy or dignity was considered optional.
He was gradually stripped of basic human rights and transformed into material for entertainment.
His silence—forced by circumstances—was conveniently interpreted as consent.
A very useful interpretation.
Extending the Deadline
Every time a deadline approached, the teams would inform the crowd that the timeline had been extended.
The explanation always sounded reasonable:
Sometimes it was because of the individual’s behavior.
Sometimes because of circumstances beyond their control.
But behind the scenes, everyone had already agreed to the delay.
They even discussed which excuse would be presented, who would be painted as the villain, and who would appear as the savior.
The Public Villain
The dummy warlock accepted the role of the villain.
After all, he was already the biggest loser in the entire operation.
The other team happily played the role of the savior.
But this was only the public version of the story.
Behind the curtain, they quietly helped the warlock by providing him with information gathered from the individual’s own home, which he then used in psychological warfare.
In public, of course, they loudly claimed to be defending the individual.
A masterpiece of public relations.
Why the Money Never Came
So why not simply give the individual the money and end the story?
Because neither team achieved its goal.
There was no winner.
Which meant that most of them lost.
And the biggest loser of all was the dummy warlock—who, by the end of this brilliant adventure, was on track to lose everything.
