Folly of the Faithful Canine

A role-playing game before Dungeons and Dragons
That didn’t have even a title
Has nevertheless left its mark with a story
That’s worth a poetic recital.

A game master spoke of a garden that had
A gazebo upon a small hill.
A player named Eric requested more details.
The master obliged him, but still

It soon was apparent that Eric assumed
A gazebo was some sort of creature.
He tried to detect any goodness with magic.
In objects, that just doesn’t feature.

He called the gazebo; it didn’t respond,
So he fired an arrow right in it.
The master suggested an axe or some flames.
(This all happened in less than a minute.)

Since Eric had neither, he opted to flee,
But the master had had quite enough.
He said the gazebo awoke, chased down Eric,
And ate him. That structure was tough!

Poor Eric was planning to make a new mage
To avenge his dead paladin then.
The rest of the players defined a gazebo.
He wouldn’t attack one again.

Some 15 years later, the story got published
In amateur press magazines.
It’s led to some 21st-century jokes
Among folks in the RPG scene.

The symbol of clubs in a playing card deck
Doesn’t look like a club much to me.
A forumite said that it came from a myth,
But the sources I found disagree.

In French, it’s called tréfle, which translates to clover.
Historians therefore suspect
The English used Spanish suits first and continued
The name when they swapped out the deck.

That also explains why the symbol of spades
Hardly shows what a shovel looks like.
Its name’s from the Old Spanish word for a sword,
Which the French had replaced with a pike.

So why aren’t the hearts still called cups and the diamonds
Called coins as the Spaniards would do?
The symbols are easy to recognize; naming
Them wrong makes you sound like a fool.

A forumite went looking for a parody of ABBA's "Super Trouper" called "Koopa Troopa," in reference to an anthropomorphic turtle species from the Mario games. He found a lousy one and made an open request for another. I found a second version that wasn't bad but decided to try my hand at it anyway. For the sake of more difference, I focused on the character's role in the Mario Kart series rather than a platform game.

Koopa Troopa, racing in a go-kart,
Drops a big green shell,
Bidding me farewell
As everybody drives pell-mell.

I was nervous when the cup began,
As I started right out in last place.
Couldn’t hear the cheering of a fan,
But I managed to set a fast pace.
In a minute, I had passed most other racers.
Suddenly I hear a sound,
And I know that it means trouble as I skid across the ground,

Because the Koopa Troopa doesn’t have a slow kart.
Using one bright star,
It will travel far,
Not like normal turtles are.

And then the Koopa Troopa, racing in a go-kart,
Fires a big red shell,
Making me unwell.
My injuries are sure to swell.

Facing lava pits and falling stones?
How can any track be so risky?
No one even put up traffic cones.
Was the management drunk on whiskey?
Nonetheless, I plan to gain a golden trophy.
Hear them play my winning theme.
Still, I must remember things here are not always as they seem,

Because the Koopa Troopa doesn’t have a slow kart,
Thanks to that darn star.
This is so bizarre.
We shouldn’t even be on par.

And then the Koopa Troopa, racing in a go-kart,
Fires a big blue shell,
Causing me to yell,
“I wish that you would go to…”

I hope to stand upon the stairs
With other winners; I’ll have mine, and they’ll have theirs.
If I’m not higher than the shorty at my side,
I think I’ll ditch my kart and hitch a ride.

That stupid Koopa Troopa doesn’t have a slow kart.
What a shining star.
This will leave a scar.
I’m feeling like I’m stuck in tar.

When Super Mario Bros. was released on NES,
Some players soon discovered quite an unintended mess:
By jumping off the exit pipe of World One-Dash-Two
While holding down and right, you let the hero pass right through
A wall of bricks to reach the open-secret Warp Zone pipes
Before they’ve loaded properly. What happens next? Oh, yipes!
The middle pipe just takes you to the start of World 5.
The others take you somewhere that the hero can’t survive,
Because it loops around without a way to let him out.
It wasn’t even programmed! How’d this feature come about?
It looks much like a certain other level, since a bug
Throws off the system’s math. The explanation makes me shrug.
I do know this: It’s designated World Blank-Dash-One,
“The Minus World.” Players often check it out for fun.
The Famicom Disk System version, only in Japan,
Gets even more bizarre, with three whole levels that you can
Complete, and then the game pretends you beat it all the way.
What happens in those levels? There’s too much for me to say,
Except they break a lot of rules enforced throughout the game,
So once you try them out, it really doesn’t feel the same.
Some hackers wanted even more and found a way to end
The endless one, revealing more weird levels to transcend.
The Minus World has to be the most oft-cited glitch
In console gaming history, and now I have the itch.

We nearly all know Simon Says, the classic schoolyard game,
But recently I’ve come to wonder where we got the name.
The earliest known version uses Cicero instead.
(Of course, if all obeyed him, he would not have lost his head.)
We now have many variants, but Simon leads the way
In several different languages across the world today.
It’s possible that players merely thought it sounded nice,
But one historic figure I’ve seen nominated twice:
De Montfort, Earl of Leicester, in the Second Barons’ War,
Took over all of England; he sure gave the king what for.
He didn’t reign for long before his own assassination,
But maybe it was long enough for age-old adulation.

Most role-playing games involve classes,
Which shape what the players can do.
Some patterns emerge across series,
And trust me: I’ve tried quite a few.

There’s often a class just called “fighter”
Or “warrior”—something like that.
Their brawn is quite handy for melees,
But that’s about it—kind of flat.

There might be an archer or sniper,
Who does the job best with a bow.
Except with a bonus for flyers,
The damage per hit is quite low.

For power and range put together,
The wizard or mage is on top,
But magic is pricy and fleeting.
They don’t fare so well once they stop.

In games where a party assembles,
There should be a cleric or priest.
They’re special for healing their allies,
But combat? For that, they’re the least.

A thief or a rogue may be present,
Despite being heroes in name.
They’re swift and amass the provisions,
But fighting with daggers is lame.

In some games, you may see a knight class,
The one with the highest defense.
They have to be strong for their armor,
But speed’s not their forte, which makes sense.

You might find a type of arcanist
Who summons foes back from the dead
Or someone who captures the weak ones
And swaps their alignment instead.

Take note that a bard or a dancer
Is there to give allies a boost.
They may or may not be the same class
To have the foes’ powers reduced.

The monk class is often bare-handed
But nimble and tough to suffice.
Berserkers are forceful yet flimsy.
The druid can shape-shift; that’s nice.

The paladin’s power is holy.
The gambler leaves fighting to chance.
I may have omitted some patterns,
But these are enough for a glance.