GameInformer

Inside a dank and poorly-lit bar at the edge of the city sit a great many patrons, to a man pathetic caricatures of proper human forms, cloistering themselves in the darkened corners of dirty booths. Their conversations bleed into one din that stifles solitary thought. They drink and wallow in their failure, these cast-off sediments of society.

Into this menagerie of hideous faces walks a towering beast of a man, bearded and fearsome, who commands with one brutal shout, "Silence!" But it's a redundancy; the ugly mass of people has already fallen silent at his presence.

The man wastes no time. From his person he produces 20 pieces of chocolate and a worn deck of playing cards. He issues a simple challenge. Whosoever bests him in a game of card-tossing may claim the chocolate for their own -- but whosoever loses forfeits their lives.

"Do not trifle with me!" Warns the grave and hauntingly beautiful giant. "I am no more man than card-throwing machine of the underworld, and as surely as the sun rises I can put all 52 of them neatly into any upturned hat for a mile. I can throw them that they land sorted by number, or suit, or into arrangements and patterns unthinkable to you slackwits. Who amongst you can hope to challenge me? Respond!"

The awful parodies of men assembled in the bar, having never heard of the sun or felt its gilded rays upon their cursed faces, are emboldened. They nod and grunt in ascent, ready to attempt the herculean feat set before them by this interloper.

The night drags on and all is bloody. One by one the bar's customers play. All fail miserably. At each new victory, the humongous challenger breaks another spine, casually, as if by rote, and beckons for another hapless opponent. In time the number of those living is outstripped by the number of those dead, who have been tossed carelessly into a pile of flesh adorning some remote corner.

At long last there are none left in the bar but a very drunk child of seven. The man looks down at him with a bemused grin. "And you, young one, you too wish to meet your end here?"

The child sputters and hiccups, finally managing an affirmation from his horrible mouth.

"Then let us begin!"

Into the dawn they toss cards, but at each turn the child is the man's equal. By this impossible twist, the child is unfazed, but the previously unstoppable mad giant becomes increasingly distressed. Eventually the distress manifests itself physically, causing the giant to throw amiss for the first time in what must surely be several millenia. The boy gives a wan smile and holds out his hand to accept the prize that now rightfully belongs to him.

But the crestfallen giant will have none of it. He merely slumps his shoulder and issues a groan that could shatter mountains. Then realizing what he must do, he grabs himself by his coatail and back collar, hoists himself up, and breaks his own back in two. He falls to the ground, a dead heap, a discarded husk of his former glory.

The child, gingerly, approaches the corpse. He reaches into the pocket of the dead man's overcoat, and pulls the 20 chocolate pieces out.

To the child's great disappointment, the chocolate is stale. He is too drunk to remember this disappointment for very long, however.

I understand that probably raises more questions than it answers, so here is a handy-dandy FAQ.