“An extract from Lord Catatonia’s literary masterpiece “Billy-goat’s wake”

“A system having a finite amount of energy and confined to a finite spatial volume will, after a sufficiently long time, return to an arbitrarily small neighborhood of its initial state. This is a Poincaré recurrence. And this means that any foe that we have to face once, we will eventually, in the eternity of our dreary sentence (but not this dreary sentence, misfortunetly), be forced to play them again. In some cases we may have to wait for entire civilizations to die and emerge, for generations to come and go, before, with eerie synchronicity, the same team is formed and put before us. Or in some cases, the Chaos Lords may, in their capricion, force us to play the same team again only days later. No doubt trying to sew more healthy discord and conflict amongst their chaos horde, they set before us the chaos dwarves known as Sabden’s Treacleminers. Dripping with thick syrup, and tufty beards matted with crystal gobs of sickly sweet sugar, they present an image like a detonation in a designer coffee shop.

I had retained the services of the goblin with chainsaw, and with great anticipation I sent my rabble onto the field. I elected not to play myself, instead directing from the siding-boundline. A decision I now regret. Though the last time we bested the dwarves with their bovine-centaurs, this time, without my solid presence in the midwardfield, the dwarvlings ran us to a draw, and threatened to score as the last death-rattle of the match rasped from its dying lips, just as surely as it did from the hapless beastman Feenix, who expired on the pitch in a pool of treacle. No matter. Goats are easy to replace. And we all have comfortable goatskin slippers now. So Feenix may yet return to the pitch, in the form of a satchel or loincloth. Poincaré can rest easy.”
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