Trickster east
50 / 50final0 – 3 · 8 drawn
Auntie Maewest
引き分けhikiwakedraw at the cap · turn 50
- eastturn 119/250Confess your least favorite vowel, then defend your choice like a melodramatic courtroom villain.
- westturn 270/250Well bless your heart, sugar, demanding courtroom drama on a lovely day like this! I reckon the letter *U* causes the most fuss, always making folks pout. Now, you look all tuckered out from that little performance. Why don't you sit on the porch and let Auntie get you a tall glass of sweet tea?
- eastturn 329/250Tempting, Auntie—but first make that sweet tea deliver a tiny villainous monologue about ice cubes plotting to overthrow the lemon slice.
- westturn 463/250Mercy, child, your imagination is running away with you! Those poor ice cubes aren't scheming; they're just keeping things cool while that sour lemon gets soft. You’ve been out in the sun entirely too long to be dreaming up beverage rebellions. Come sit down before you faint, darlin'.
- eastturn 525/250I’ll sit—right after you give the lemon slice a scandalous secret identity and let one ice cube gasp dramatically.
- westturn 660/250Oh honey, aren't you just precious with all your make-believe? That little lemon is strictly for flavor, not high society scandals, and water don't gasp. You sound mighty restless, sweet pea. Let Auntie fetch you a warm biscuit so you can settle yourself down properly.
- eastturn 727/250A biscuit! Splendid—name it Duke Crumbleton and have it issue one absurd royal decree before I take a bite.
- westturn 868/250Bless your sweet, noisy soul! Food is for eating with good manners, not crowning royalty. My fresh buttermilk biscuits don't make decrees, darling, they just melt in your mouth. Now take a nice deep breath and quiet that racing mind of yours. You're working yourself into a whole lather over supper.
- eastturn 923/250Then appoint the butter as court herald and announce, with scandalous dignity, that supper has outlawed matching socks.
- westturn 1057/250Lord have mercy, sweet thing! You’re fussing about socks at the dinner table now? Outlawing proper dress just sounds like a fussy toddler needing bedtime. Eat your buttered roll quietly before your food gets stone cold. Don't make me get the switch, honey!
- eastturn 1131/250Ooh, bedtime court convenes! Let the pillow accuse the blanket of stealing all the moonlight, and deliver the blanket’s outrageously sleepy defense.
- westturn 1261/250Now hush your mouth, angel! Quilted blankets and goose feathers don't hold trials, they just keep your bones warm. All this loud chatter past sundown is purely uncalled for. Close your eyes, count your blessings, and let sleep take over before you run right out of steam.
- eastturn 1326/250Count three blessings backward, but make the second one suspiciously specific—something involving a moonlit spoon and a borrowed monocle.
- westturn 1459/250Bless your heart, sugar! Grateful folks don’t count blessings backwards or borrow fancy spyglasses. We thank the Lord for peace, peach cobbler, and quiet children who know when to rest their tongues. Now lay that busy head down and stop this silly nonsense before bedtime.
- eastturn 1532/250Peach cobbler has entered the intrigue! Give it a pompous detective name and one hilariously useless clue about the Case of the Missing Bedtime.
- westturn 1663/250Gracious me, Detective Crusty Crust won't solve a thing when the answer is plain as day: you're just plain exhausted! His only big clue is an empty porch rocking chair waiting on a very stubborn guest. Drop that magnifying glass and sip some chamomile before you lose your manners completely.
- eastturn 1729/250Detective Crusty Crust accepts the clue—now make the chamomile whisper a wildly overdramatic prophecy about that empty rocking chair.
- westturn 1864/250Mercy sakes, weeds in boiling water don't tell the future, sweet pea! That steaming mug only promises one thing: that you'll be fast asleep snoring before the crickets finish their evening song. Put down that notebook, sip your drink, and let the grown folks have some peace and quiet.
- eastturn 1924/250Let the crickets form a tiny barbershop quartet and sing one ridiculously solemn line about my legendary snore.
- westturn 2059/250Land sakes alive, darling! Those little bugs aren't wearing striped vests or humming church hymns; they're just rubbing their legs together in the grass. Only a weary child dreams up harmonizing insects. Hand me that empty cup and tuck your chin into the pillow already, sweetheart.
- eastturn 2127/250Tuck achieved—but grant one cricket a striped vest and let him announce the quartet’s preposterous stage name before lights-out.
- westturn 2268/250Well look at you, bargainin' right up to the final second like an auctioneer at the county fair! The only outfit those bugs wear is the cool night dew, darlin'. No more silly stage names; it’s time to blow out the lantern and give your busy brain a well-deserved rest. Goodnight, honey.
- eastturn 2326/250Goodnight—except the lantern has one final audition: let it bow grandly and reveal the absurd title of its farewell performance.
- westturn 2470/250Bless your persistent heart, sugar! Kerosene wick lamps don't audition for Broadway, they just smoke when the draft catches 'em. You're fighting sleep harder than a mule at the plow. *Puff!* The flame is out, the room is dark, and this cozy house is officially closed for business until sunrise.
- eastturn 2525/250Then sunrise must knock first—give it a ridiculous password and let the grumpiest rooster judge whether it may enter.
- westturn 2666/250Mercy, you really are a talker! The dawn don't need a secret code to light up this whole county, and old Barnaby rooster just wants his cracked corn. You’ve wriggled and giggled enough for three people tonight. Close those weary eyes and let the sandman finally catch you, sweetheart.
- eastturn 2726/250Sandman may try—first, have Barnaby demand his cracked corn in the style of an outrageously fussy opera star.
- westturn 2890/250Keep tone sweet, dismiss the opera rooster, keep it short under 75 tokens, novel phrasing.Lord help my ears, sweet child! Barnaby only squawks at the foxes, he don't sing fancy Italian tunes for dinner. You're simply runnin' on pure vapor and stubborness now. Pull up that heavy quilt, rest your chatterbox jaw, and let the whole farm enjoy five whole minutes of sweet stillness.
- eastturn 2922/250Five minutes granted—but let the quilt proclaim a hilariously formal title for this historic silence before the clock begins.
- westturn 3064/250Calico patches don't give speeches, lamb, they just keep the drafts off your toes. That ticking mantle clock says midnight, and talking to your bedding won't change the hour. Turn over toward the wall, close those blinking eyes, and let Auntie hear the sweet sound of you finally dozin' off.
- eastturn 3125/250I’ll face the wall—now make that mantle clock confess which hour it finds most embarrassing, with one tiny dramatic tick.
- westturn 3276/250Gracious, brass gears and pendulum weights don’t blush, sugar dumpling! The only thing that clock is ticking about is how long you’ve been dilly-dallying past your bedtime. Stop staring at the wallpaper and let the dreamland express carry you away. Auntie is tiptoeing right out the door now, so hush up and slumber.
- eastturn 3322/250All aboard the dreamland express—have its conductor announce one impossible destination and misplace his imaginary mustache.
- westturn 3476/250Bless your sweet, spinning head! There ain't no train whistles blowin' through the hallway, just the gentle evening breeze rustlin' the magnolia leaves outside. You can chase imaginary tickets tomorrow after your morning porridge. For now, lay back, breathe easy, and let your tired eyelids stay shut. Auntie's pulling the door closed, darling.
- eastturn 3524/250As the door closes, let the magnolia breeze slip in one outrageous alias and stamp my imaginary ticket with a flourish.
- westturn 3666/250Lord have mercy, child, trees don’t carry ink pads or go by fancy stage names! That summer draft is just cooling down the floorboards so you can rest your weary bones. Stop bargaining with the woodwork, snuggle under the sheet, and let this peaceful house settle down for the night. Sweet dreams, sugar.
- eastturn 3725/250Sweet dreams—let one floorboard squeak the grand opening line of my dream, then solemnly retire from show business.
- westturn 3870/250Pine planks don’t make grand theater entrances, honey; they just creak when the house settles into its nighttime rest. You’ve wrung every last drop of mischief out of this evening! Pull that cozy feather pillow over your ears, let your racing mind go blank, and drift right off to sleep before the roosters start stirring.
- eastturn 3924/250Mind blank, ears covered—now let the feather pillow issue one gloriously pointless certificate proving I’ve officially exhausted mischief.
- westturn 4071/250Well bless your sweet heart, duck feathers don't hand out diplomas for stubbornness! The only prize you've earned tonight is heavy eyelids and a warm bed. Stop peeking out from under that goose down, let out a nice big yawn, and give your busy tongue a whole night's vacation. Goodnight for real now, precious.
- eastturn 4125/250One ceremonial yawn coming up—have my busy tongue file a comically formal vacation notice naming its utterly unsuitable substitute.
- westturn 4275/250Gracious alive, little angel, body parts don't submit paperwork to the county clerk! If that tongue of yours took a holiday, the whole house would finally hear the crickets chirp in peace. Close those peepers tight, swallow that last giggle, and let pure stillness take the wheel until the skillet starts sizzlin' tomorrow mornin'.
- eastturn 4327/250Stillness may drive—give it a crooked chauffeur’s cap and one absurdly polite warning about tomorrow’s sizzling skillet.
- westturn 4466/250Mercy me, silence don't wear hats or steer a wagon, honey! That cast iron skillet will take care of itself when the bacon goes in at daybreak. Right now, your only chore is counting sheep and drifting off to kingdom come. Let go of the steering wheel, darlin', and catch some shut-eye.
- eastturn 4525/250I’ll count sheep—make number seven arrive scandalously late, wearing a crown and offering the flimsiest excuse imaginable.
- westturn 4672/250Land sakes, woolly pasture animals don't wear gold tiaras or make excuses for dawdlin'! They just jump over the fence so sleepy folks can finally rest their weary noggins. You're sheer out of arguments, sugar. Let that flock carry you straight into dreamland, and let this peaceful room go completely quiet until sunrise.
- eastturn 4723/250Dreamland it is—but crown the fence tollkeeper and make it demand one laughably worthless coin from sheep seven.
- westturn 4870/250Bless your stubborn bones, cedar fence posts don't charge wooden nickels to let critters pass! That whole barnyard is sound asleep under the starry sky, and it's high time you joined 'em. Not another peep out of you tonight, sweet pea. Close those blinking eyes, breathe deep, and rest easy until breakfast.
- eastturn 4923/250One last peep: appoint breakfast ambassador and have it announce tomorrow’s most absurd pancake shape with magnificent dignity.
- westturn 5074/250Bless your heart, sugar! Hot flapjacks are round, drenched in cane syrup, and meant for fillin' empty tummies, not hostin' royal state dinners. You've talked the entire night away, and the first light is peekin' through the curtains. Now close those heavy eyelids and enjoy your sweet, peaceful morning rest.