‘Hurry Sis, hurry!’ grumbled Lady Evelyne in the kitchen of the Clan Castle of 656, ’that''s what I get to hear all day. And always followed by a long drawn-out ‘tooooo late!’. I''m still pressing the wrong buttons, and when I finally get the right ones, I''m too slow. And the end of the story: GW is soon over and I still have no skills.’


    ‘Yes, that''s the case,’ sighed SGH, ’our generals are really strict. They scold me all the time too.’


    ‘Ask me how I''m doing,’ grumbled Chitadrita, who was sitting at the end of the table and looking particularly cross, ’I was mistaken for a girl! But I''m a bloke! I put a photo on my photo wall so that people could see it!’


    ‘Yes, sorry,’ moaned Lady Evelyne, ’it was the name. It sounded kind of - feminine.’


    ‘I''m changing my name! I''m going to be called Angry Schnapps from now on!’


    SGH giggled. ‘Why Angry Schnapps?’


    ‘Because I''m angry! Besides, I''m Russian! So I''m an angry Russian! ...’


    ‘... Angry Russian number 3...’ added Lady Evelyne from the cooker.


    ‘... and I think to myself, alcohol is always good! So from now on I''m Angry Schnapps!’


    SGH almost didn''t manage to formulate her question, she was laughing so hard. ‘Okay, Angry Schnapps, and why are you so angry!’


    ‘That''s obvious! No bloke likes to be mistaken for a girl! Read the penultimate chapter, I supposedly sigh out of unrequited love when I think of Marzzzz!’


    ‘You do, because you''re gay!’ roared the donkey from the 652 stable.


    ‘Cry!’ roared at least two of the Thunder brothers right behind him.


    ‘Here we go again,’ SGH growled and ripped open the window.


    Just in time to hear the chorus of three Thunder brothers at full volume. ‘Yoo-hoo, 656! You have no skills and you''re finished!’


    ‘And you can''t even burn down one of our towers properly!’ SGH yelled back.


    ‘We only stopped because we didn''t feel like it anymore!’


    ‘Yes, that''s what I''d say if I were you!’


    ‘But we still have the strongest city and the most players! And your friend is as lame as a tortoise and totally incompetent!’


    Lady Evelyne put the crockery down with a clink and stepped up to the window next to SGH. ‘Give me a break, my dear. Because they mean me. Now it''s getting personal.’ She took a deep breath and shouted: ‘And you''re all replaceable!’


    There was a brief silence over there. Then came an astonished ‘Huh?’


    ‘Yes, you''re all replaceable! Soon every second person here will have T4. Accounts with T4 are a dime a dozen, but there''s only one chronicler! I''m the only one here with a unique selling point!’


    There was still a stunned silence over there.


    ‘But we have a lot of T4! Me too! And you have nothing! You''re totally worthless!’ one of the Thunder brothers then shouted boldly.


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    ‘My price on the transfer market is well above yours and above almost every T4 account here. It''s a classic case of supply and demand! Learn your bloody economics!’


    Over there, there was now absolute silence.


    ‘They only have one brain cell to share, the Dude once said,’ SGH chuckled, ’I think you need to give them a bit of time to think.’


    Lady Evelyne tilted her head. ‘Have I been too mean to them now?’


    SGH was still giggling. ‘Oh no, just keep hitting them hard, they deserve it! Is there any cake left?’


    ‘Tomorrow I''ll be nice to everyone again, it''s Valentine''s Day!’ swore Lady Evelyne and cut SGH another piece of cake. ‘Tomorrow!’


    __________________________________________


    Someone else had resolved to be nice tomorrow, and that was Little Razor tp from 649. There had been a whole series of complaints against his players, who had behaved impossibly in the SC, and he had made a note of which sentences he wanted to write in the SC at the next opportunity.


    Educating his own people was incredibly annoying. Little Razor didn''t really see it as his job. But what could you do when you''ve already been written to by the leaders of other cities?


    Little Razor wasn''t quite sure what to do. Jacky had said that there was also an RL. This ominous RL! Some people here on the GW map didn''t even seem to know what it was. Little Razor concentrated on his notepad so that he could memorise all his sentences in time.


    __________________________________________


    Slow Pain was not fazed by his R5''s attempts to educate him. He was convinced that they were all dogs and piglets on the 652! You just had to tell them often enough and make them realise it. He thought this was an ingenious war tactic, alongside his specially trained fighting Chihuahuas. He was currently training four of them, and to make the whole thing even more fun, he had given them the names of his worst enemies: Mink, Thunder, Kodaxx and Poison Ivy. Ivy from the 652 was a particular annoyance for him. The problems this person had already caused him! But that was over now. The next time she came back, he would sic his fighting chihuahuas on her! And then - muhahahaha! He was really looking forward to it.


    ___________________________________________


    ‘Why was the complaints office closed?’ Lipsy grumbled, and would have stamped his foot angrily if he could have. Unfortunately, he was still in plaster on all four limbs and had to rely on one of his comrades-in-arms to push him around in a wheelchair.


    ‘I want to complain! That bastard Muslim cat ate my squirrels!’


    ‘Careful, that''s discrimination, racism and speciesism!’ growled Muslim Cat, ’Be glad you''re my brother or you''d have my troops in your hut right now.’


    ‘Oh yeah? Be glad I''m completely plastered, otherwise you''d be dead now, you gluttonous monster! Those were my squirrels you ate! They were tame!’


    ‘Yeah, right, and that''s why they ran off. All right, brother.’


    Kodaxx, who was walking past, rolled his eyes: ‘Cry!’


    Then he removed the cardboard sign saying ‘Complaints Office’ from the door of the parlour for good and threw it in the bin.


    _______________________________________


    ‘This GW just sucks! And it''s all your fault!’ shouted the 652.


    ‘What''s wrong with them now? And why is it our fault that the GW sucks?’ Impel wondered.


    ‘Just ask them,’ giggled SGH.


    Impel didn''t need to be told twice and opened the window. ‘Why?’ she shouted loudly in the direction of the 652.


    ‘Because you were such weak opponents! We''re bored to death!’


    ‘It''s your own fault!’ shouted Impel, ’You poached all the players from everywhere else! You wanted to win this at all costs!’


    ‘Yes, but now we''re bored!’


    ‘Then you''ll just die of boredom and not in battle!’


    ‘You''re mean!’


    ‘Cry!’


    ‘Quiet!’ came the agonised voice of Lil Arrow from the direction of 655, ’Shut the fuck up! Everyone!’


    ‘No, no, no!’ roared Little Razor from the tower of 649, glad to finally be able to say his carefully worded educational sentences without it affecting his own members, ’We don''t talk to each other like that here! Not like that!’


    Impel just managed to close the window before collapsing at the kitchen table laughing, while outside the 652, the 649 and the 655 took turns shouting at each other.


    ‘I need more cake, Evelyne. There''s no other way to endure this. How much longer can GW go on?’


    ‘Eight days,’ the lady replied, setting her plate down in front of Impel. ‘Eight days of madness, then it''s over.’


    ‘And then?’


    ‘‘''And then’ is a good question,’ SGH muttered, ’because yes: what actually happens then? Is there a plan?’


    ‘We''ll see,’ smiled the lady. ‘In the meantime, let''s just keep playing. There will certainly be some reorganisation after GW.’


    ‘Do you think there will be a lot of people changing cities? I know some of them want to go to 652.’


    Lady Evelyne nodded. ‘That''s not surprising. The radiance is unbroken. They are the clear winners of GW.’


    ‘And doesn''t that worry you?’


    ‘Let''s put it this way, there''s a famous quote from Mongolia: the victor has many friends, the vanquished has good friends. It''s definitely worth thinking about.’