FIFA Backstories #4: The Wannabe Lannister

It was quite a boring game, to be honest. I can make no claims of greatness when it comes to FIFA, but this was, if anything, easier than ABC or 1-2-3. To be fair, I was surprised when the computer paired Sevilla against Crystal Palace. I was equally surprised when my opponent just kept falling for the same trick throughout the first half, and I idly frittered away the second while maintaining a three goal cushion.

For a game that ensued with very little drama – I hadn’t even looked at his team sheet before hand – I was quite surprised to receive a message from my opponent – one “ViperZ iD” informing me that my “funeral has just come early”.

Assuming that my opponent is not the Viper Boa (Yellow) available from the Crystal Palace reptiles website (thus throwing my victory at a game involving digits into sharp relief), I must admit that I am not totally convinced by this statement. Obviously I won’t be fully aware of my own funeral, but I doubt it would take place in my living room on a Sunday evening.

Illustration: Marianne MacRae

Illustration: Marianne MacRae

Also, I don’t recall dying. I feel that ViperZ iD must have a very low opinion of his own abilities if he’s managed to lose a game of FIFA to a dying man. It should be said that it’s unusually kind to actually bother arranging any sort of ceremonial event for my death, considering I had never met ViperZ iD before, and now never will. Most people who had just lost a game of FIFA would simply threaten death – which is an appropriate and measured reaction – but rarely is someone so thoughtful as to consider that my relatives might wish to commemorate my life afterwards.

What’s disappointing is that he doesn’t seem to have followed through on this in any way. I feel pretty healthy. The other day I bought orange juice with bits in by accident, but I didn’t bother sieving it. That’s how healthy I feel. It’s just started being sunny again so I probably won’t get rickets. The spectre of death isn’t looming, he’s playing swingball in the back garden; wearing cut-offs.

I have decided to be generous, and allow a significant lagtime between threat and action. As a Crystal Palace fan, I suspect he will dispatch me in the traditional way by dressing up as a giant model dinosaur and then catching fire. Or possibly, thanks to Tony Pulis’ connections, he will send Andy Wilkinson to man-mark me. Both prospects fill me with dread.

Then again, if his ability to carry out death threats is anything like his ability to play FIFA, I suspect I have a good twenty years before someone I previously trusted beats me to death with a pool cue and says “ViperZ iD sends his regards.”


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