Yahtzee's reign of terror is over--four straight victories and then Friday an ignominous third place finish. Sure, B and I had to co-ordinate, and I had literally to sacrifice myself to rid the world of this pestilential scourge, but it was worth every minute. Chasing Yahtzee's armies out of Eastern Europe and Asia and finally destroying him in New Guinea cost me dearly and left me defenseless against B's red horde. I was quickly eradicated, but felt justified in claiming to have met my goals. Yahtzee saw the writing on the wall rather early. He was cut off and had little hope of re-enforcement when he launched a peculiar campaign against Stewie, going to the effort of wiping Stewie off the board and leaving himself more vulnerable to my onslaught.
Early on Yahtzee and I actually worked together, albeit grudgingly, to try and halt B's startling advance. We took turns knocking him out of Alaska and Central America to prevent him garnering extra re-enforcements, but our detente was short-lived. As it should be.
And, yes, your assessment of four thirty-somethings playing Risk on a Friday night, sipping red wine and passing the duthcie down the left hand side is indeed correct.
