Lord Self has a rim protector at last!
All hail the dump truck driver, whom ever he may be!
Give thanks to the saw bones that put the good King back together!
Behold Dokethello!
But there is a rub, Board Ratliff’s.
The King would lack depth behind him, unless Lord Self were predisposed to ask William the Second of Prestonwich to consent to be used as a veritable 6th man, as posted yesterday.
Alas, what hath this kingly stuff to do with gambling on said perimeter, my fellow Yorics?
Well, by sweetly overplaying on the perimeter, and relying on the king to checkmate the opponents’ dullards at the ring of iron, surely thus we can gain most advantage, lords and ladies.
But what then should the rubbeth be, my fellow skullduggerers?
To overplay outside, exposeth the good King Dokethello—aye he that ruleth the virtuous middle without depth—to such odious fouls that only bitter fate could befall the good king and our knights of the rectangle.
To sag, to give, to help, aye these are means of keeping King and court in proper state.
But not to pressure that black stripe which doth yield momentum shifting scores is heretofore unSelfian, yes?
What then must be done?
This I beseech thee to make sense for me.
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