"Gee Mr. Goat," they say. "Will you sign my napkin?"
I don't, of course. And I laugh at them as I refuse. I know that sounds cruel and cold, but in my defense, I really am very wealthy.
Anyway, after I've turned down my adoring fans, they always have the questions. "Mr. Goat, how do you win at everything you do? What makes you such a winner at everything you do: surfing, spycraft, glassware, casino games, eating contests, juggling slot machines, web design, fashion, high jumping, yo-yo, picking the best slots, hang gliding, dog training, winning, online slot machines, Muppet criticism, swordplay, banter, snorkeling, and much much more?"
This awe at my skills carries over to my latest venture: the poker/reality endeavor on Donkey Island.
The answer obviously, is that I am a winner. Winner! I win like a winner! You don't. Loser. Winning, what I can do, you wouldn't imagine, I am like a cyclops with seven eyes and like a million deltoid muscles. I can grow my full head of hair seven inches in an hour and then pull it back into my head with my mind.
Uh-oh, Emilio and Tom Cruise are here to stage my intervention.
Anyway, here's my winning Island Diary.
The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat
BrainMC and Much Tim drag my half-incapacitated carcass to the beach for our immunity challenge. They prop up my head on some nearby coconuts so that I can watch the action. I may be hallucinating, but it seems like the challenge involves some sort of jet-pack laser gun battle against bird-lizards. Given that this is a $20 a head prop bet, I wonder how we got the budget for the bird-lizards.
My team merges to form a gigantic robot and destroys the others with a lava lamp/laser saw, their screams of agony ringing out across the bright blue water as the sun looks down on the carnage like some unfeeling chthonic eye.
The surviving members of Team Fish haul off the old lady, Hoyazo, and drag her howling into the jungle, and as the darkness closes in on me it occurs to me that I'm on the right team.
Day 9: too hot too cold too hot too hot too cold never thought I could Samuel help me please forgive me I see a pale man before me water I need the water too hot too cold
|Watch out where the huskies go|
and please don't eat the yellow snow.
The bad news is that I have another challenge ahead of me, and I'm weak as a baby seal. Clearly I'm the weakest link on this team and must get my strength back before I'm killed and eaten.
However, there's one last piece of good luck. This is a puzzle challenge, not a physical one. It's one of those deals where you have a grid of squares that can slide around, with one space empty to allow sliding, which, when properly arranged, will form themselves into a picture. Even better, it turns out that Team Fish is missing an additional member. One of their tribe, who allegedly played two days ago while I succumbed to fever, has been otherwise entirely missing. Her name is Summer-something-or-other, and apparently she has been sitting out, claiming that she wants to stay "real" by greeting the sun each dawn. Of course, staying up all night to greet the dawn leaves Summer too exhausted to participate in challenges.
This is all told to me by the increasingly grizzled middle aged stock-trader Joe C. Very of Team Fish. "I tell you what, buddy," mutters Joe C in his thick Brooklyn, "we don't win dis one, we'll be keeping that dawn Summer chick 'real', all right. We'll be keepin' her 'real'-ly off dis island."
There is a twist to this challenge, in that the puzzles don't have any sort of picture on them yet. Apparently we each need to paint the other person's puzzle in our own team's colors and then scramble it for them to solve. I fancy myself a bit of an artist, so I take our Team Donkey blue and draw a perfectly serviceable donkey on the puzzle, then scramble the tiles with weakened muscles. Joe C. is the other team's painter, and is halfway through crafting a (quite well-done) swordfish on our puzzle in Team Fish orange when the bucket spills, completely dousing him. Poor Joe C. is orange head to foot. Ouch. That paint looks like it will be hard to get off.
With Joe off his game following his painty immersion, Team Fish is thrown off balance and can't complete their puzzle in time. "No problemo," I hear Joe say as Team Fish stalks off. " Summer vacation is about to end."