We’re rerunning Richard Cobbett’s classic Crapshoot column, in which he rolled the dice and took a chance on obscure games—both good and bad.
From 2010 to 2014 Richard Cobbett (opens in new tab) wrote Crapshoot, a column about rolling the dice to bring random games back into the light. This week, give me liberty or… wait, hang on. Being British, that would be most unpatriotic. Dispense Oppression AND Death, and give me a nice cup of tea and a biscuit!The Glorious Campaign Against The Traitor Colonies, Day 1
So far, I don’t think anyone has noticed that I have no idea what I’m doing. Splendid. How does one win a war against an entrenched force like this, anyway? I’m assuming that simply building a lot of tanks and rushing them will not work, partly because of the scale of the battlefield and difficulty of establishing the necessary supply chains, but mostly because they haven’t been invented yet.
I hope that expedition I sent to the Tiber River pans out. An ion cannon would be extremely useful, as well as really setting the appropriate tone for future Independence Days. But I digress. And should probably give some orders beyond “Try to win this.”
But it’s not easy. Normally at this point I would have lots of advisors and strategies and data to play off. Here, all I have is the Earl of Sandwich on speed-dial, and he’s not taking my calls any more. “Sir,” I said to him, “I require you to—”
“You’re going to ask me to make you a ham baguette, aren’t you?”
I was of course most offended by this insinuation. “I am going to ask you you make England proud.”
“So, with salt and vinegar crisps, and a four-finger Kit-Kat?”
“Please.”
“Don’t call me again.”
So, that could definitely have gone better. But, I have to assume that His Majesty, Great and True, Protector of Justice and Light of the Empire would never have sent me if he did not, for some reason, have faith. Or syphilis. But since saying such would be treason, I shall not.
Primarily, it appears that my task is to allocate budgets, because war is thrilling like that. I have a budget of “4195” for the next few months, and can only hope that this is pounds rather than pence or little beads of glass like the ones we purchased half of the Empire with, or this is going to be a distinctly underwhelming counter-Revolution.
I am instructed to use it Wisely, and to begin by deciding how much to pay my officers. I am informed the dishonourable curs usually receive a salary of 906—an insult! Surely they should serve for the pleasure of one day knowing that their commander has basked in his Majesty’s presence and been told “Yes, well, job done,” in the proudest traditions of loyalty.
They ask for 906. I give them 10. If I am tested, tomorrow I shall not be so generous.
Safe? Was this Empire of ours built on safety? I think not, good sir, most definitely not! Were we all of your yellow stripe, why, we would never have ventured from our septic isle and the sun would set upon the British Empire on a nightly basis; in winter, really bloody early. That would be—
Sceptred! I meant sceptred! Phew. How easily does the corruption of treason and ingratitude work its way into the soul.The Glorious Campaign Against The Traitor Colonies, Day 2
And the questions keep coming! How much to supply soldiers! Money for ships! Should we hire mercenaries? I do not know, sirs. Do they have the ability to show the slightest initiative? Then I shall have a whole cabinet of them!
Boston? Wait. Were they not the bounders and cads responsible for the waste of so much good tea? Fie, then fetch them torches instead of financial stability! Hoodlums! Bounders! Cads! TurboCADs! Someone use them to design and construct a warning to others.
