The past months we've been posting a "Simon Says..." feature on the blog, it's one of the many emails that are send around the office and team on a daily basis. This one is again from Simon Carter, the technical director on Fable 2. You should know him from co-writing the Fable (project Ego) developer diaries (link). Warning: The following email contains a very British joke (it made me laugh).
From: Simon Carter
Sent: 01 February 2008
To: Fable2 Team
Subject: Day 41
Day 41
The events of Chapped Tuesday are now far behind us, but it seems that we are to be dealt yet more challenges. Soap-free Friday is upon us.
It started weeks ago, initially with the disabled toilets. Unable to wash their hands effectively, the poor blighters couldn’t maintain a proper grip on the wheel rims of their wheelchairs leaving them unable to accelerate or break properly; it was like watching “The Handicapped – On Ice!”. Now the shortage is kicking in for the rest of us, and I fear a repeat of the horrifying events from a few short weeks ago.
Day 43
Since I last wrote the situation has rapidly degenerated. Without any proper washing facilities every man’s hand has effectively become a deadly weapon. The people with the muckiest hands have become the leaders in this new order. “Make my tea or sniff my fart fingers” is a common threat from the artists.
This morning I was mugged. A group of APs led by Berry were patrolling the corridors, looking for easy prey. “Give me your wallet, fatso” he said, wiggling his dung-dangled-digits at me. I paid up and retreated in shame.
Day 45
As you know, here at base-camp we’re almost entirely cut off from civilisation. Even so, we try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. News came through today, and it became clear why we have no soap –it really put things in perspective.
Five days ago, in an unexpected terrorist attack, the entire shipment of liquid-soap for Europe was hijacked – hundreds of lorries diverted towards Paris and their contents spilled over French capital. The scenes were horrifying – millions of Frenchmen who hadn’t washed in decades screaming as they were forcibly cleansed. According to environmentalists, without the benefit of years of unwashed pheromones the one thing that made French men sexually attractive has been eradicated - the sex drive of that entire nation could be wiped out, leading to infertility.
Day 46
After yesterday, I didn’t think it could get any more serious – I was wrong. Martin has been doing some calculations and we could be looking at a worldwide catastrophe.
Apparently, poo exerts a small but measurable pull on other poo – the more poo, the bigger the pull. According to Martin, the biggest concentration of shite is going to grow at an exponential rate.
“If this doesn’t stop,” Martin says, “We could be looking at a turd-ball the size of the earth within 48 hours.”
I nervously look over at Lovett at the other end of the room.
“The biggest concentration of shite, eh. Hmm. But Martin - are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Martin looks at me in fear, and nods.
“Turdmageddon”, he whispers quietly.
