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Meh....  Policy-wise, you get what you vote for.  People were frustrated by a sense of Britain adrift and in decline, so they voted for a new direction.  Like it, lump it or stick it, she definitely shook things up, for good or for ill.  But say what you will about her personality or politics: you have to admit she had great hair.

I'm into this topic like a parasitic alien larva is into your lower intestine!   Stand-by for invasive awesomeness.

Sorry Baron.

It appears that Ponch is suffering from Mad Cow Disease. 
Your turn please Baron.

For a minute there I thought I'd been Ponched for a second time this week!  Glad it all got sorted.  Here's one of my favourites:

Is that Geoffrey Blake and Jodi Foster?  Am I looking at CONTACT? 

Holy cow! Are you from the future?!?

Nah, just prescient.  I knew you'd toss the coin, and I knew which way it would land, long before you yourself even conceived of the notion.  I also know how this competition will turn out, by the way.    

I call heads.

Hey, what gives?!?

I'd love to become a serial ratist but I don't have the attention span or puzzle solving skills to finish most adventure games, I've only ever done Wadjet Eye games and even then I needed walkthroughs quite a bit. So I can't rate games without finishing them...

...but most AGS games of any quality have online walkthroughs!

My excuse is that I'm lazy.  Try to shoot holes in that!

Well I vote for kconan, not just because it's a classy thing to do and not just because his avatar makes him out to be some sort of sexy sexy beast.  I think the build up really makes his story work: Jeff's downtrodden existence, being kicked up the arse by life again and again, and then suddenly a flash of opportunity to turn that world on its head.  I'm a little curious -obviously it wouldn't be apparent to Jeff in the heat of the moment, so I see why you wouldn't include it -but why do the leprechauns make Jeff into their king on the spur of the moment?  Was it the liquor smell of the costume -only a king could afford to waste such a variety of booze?  Just wondering....

I call heads.

Everything you wanted to know about Baron's deep-seated neurosis sex but were afraid to ask?

Ponch kinda got it.  kinda.  Take it away, Mr. P.

WOW! I tried to make that shot as obscure as possible without being unfair. But that didn't seem to bother Baron one bit. Dead on target!

I'd recognize Ootah's polo-ball sized head anywhere.   

Here's an easy one for Ponch:

[imgzoom]http://www.vanwijst.com/games/Published/movie1.jpg[/imgzoom]

....and don't try cheating by googling "Giant Breast" 'cause you'll get WAAAAAAAAAAY off-task in the process.

Well, I think I've brought it as far as I can.  The lingo is more Newfie than Irish, but it was still fun stringing it together.

Emerald Ails

   Rosco sat down across the table from the sack of potatoes.  Davey stood three metres behind the sack and to the left, guarding the locked door.  There were no windows in the cinder-blocked basement, and the only light came from a single bulb dangling from some unfinished wiring.  There was a heating vent on the wall and a drain on the floor, but they had both been sealed with a judicious amount of duct tape.  The room was secured.
   Rosco examined the contents of the table once more.  They were laid out neatly in a line, easily visible from both sides of the table: a bottle of whiskey (Irish, of course), packet of cigarettes, lighter, two cups of water, roll of duct tape, pair of scissors, muffin, bottle of laxative, butter boat, pliers, saw, utility knife, frayed extension cord, leather belt, bowl of candy, dog collar, rubber gardening gloves, measuring stick, taser (tm).  Everything seemed to be in order.
   Rosco nodded at Davey.  Davey carried a tranquilizer dart gun, which he now trained on the sack of potatoes.  Rosco took the taser from the table and did likewise.  Davey crept up to the sack of potatoes from behind and pulled the sack away, revealing a tiny bearded fellow duct taped to a baby's high-chair, eyes closed and head slumped to the side.  Davey quickly retreated to his position by the door, dart gun still at the ready.
   The little fellow didn't even twitch.  Beneath the rolls of duct tape bonds his little green suit was dirt-stained and wrinkled from a night spent in the snare.  Bits of straw and dried out leaves clung to his red beard, and a dribble of drool was freely flowing from his lips.  That was a good sign: as best as Rosco knew, dead things didn't drool.  While keeping the taser trained his target, he grasped the measuring stick with his other hand and gave the leprechaun a couple pokes.  Nothing.
   Davey motioned with the dart gun and Rosco picked up a glass of water and tossed it at the tiny man's face.  Still no reaction.  Rosco frowned, then broke open the big guns.  He twisted the cap off the bottle of Irish whiskey, and noticed the leprechaun's nose twitch.  He poured two fingers into the empty water cup, and noticed a furtive tongue dart from one side of the leprechaun's mouth to the other.  He tossed the whiskey at the leprechaun's face and the little man sprang to life, spitting and spluttering in shock.
   â€œWhaffa.... gah lard b'y.....” the little man cursed nonsensically.  His gleaming eyes were open now, roving around the room mischievously, taking it all in: the walls, the table, the instruments of torture and the two men.  He twisted helplessly in his bonds.  “Whyfer ye ballyraggin' so fine screech!?!” he demanded defiantly, spitting again.
   â€œ...What?” Rosco asked, shaking his head.  “Nevermind.  As you can see, we're not here to mess around, Mr....”
   â€œBarmping ferk, ye be b'y, lard 'n' tunder!”
   Rosco stared blankly at the leprechaun for a long moment, trying to process what he'd just heard.  “Mr. Ferk,” he continued, “Me and my associate,” he waved at Davey, “are very much interested in the whereabouts of your pot of gold.”
   The leprechaun squirmed in his seat to look over his shoulder at Davey.  “Whaddaya at, b'y?!?  'Tis duff, gommin' fer a b'y's poke!  I's nare gocked at a lonesome flanker.  Nare one aboot, ye biniki starn!”
   Rosco lifted up the muffin from the table and slathered a big chunk of butter over the top of it.  He licked his lips, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Davey grin.  “Me and Davey,” he started again, “We want to be friends with you.  We want to be your pals.  Here,” he offered.  “Have a bite.”  He reached across the table and stuck the buttery end of the muffin into the leprechaun's gaping mouth.  The leprechaun spluttered, crumbs flying out of his mouth and butter smeared all over his cheeks.
   â€œBlarmey!” the little man spat.
   Rosco sighed and lifted up the pair of pliers from the table, turning them slowly in his hand, letting the leprechaun get a good look at the tool.  The little man stared back at him, mouth working wordlessly.  “What do you think?” Rosco asked Davey.  “Do you think he's got any gold teeth?”
   A long silence hung in the room.
   â€œWell dere, b'y.  Dinna be muckin' a rise out o' me....” the leprechaun squirmed.
   Rosco darted forward, pinching the pliers on the leprechaun's front tooth.  The little man babbled in tongues around the steely pliers, helplessly squirming against his bonds.  He turned himself a bright red with the effort, melting the butter off his cheeks and down his neck and setting the whiskey and water steaming off of his forehead.  Rosco shouted at him: “WHERE'S THE GOLD!  WHERE IS IT!”  He let the leprechaun squirm a little longer before releasing his grip.
   The leprechaun licked at his front tooth.  “Me toot, ye right crooket starn hole!”
   Rosco gave him a minute to calm down before picking up the frayed extension cord and the utility knife.  The leprechaun stilled himself again, glancing from the taser, now on the table, back up to the extension cord and knife.  Rosco cut the end of the cord off and pulled the internal wires apart as wide as his arms would allow.  Then he plugged in the other side.  “We want,” he said very calmly, “To know ...where ...the ...gold ...is.”  He touched the two ends of the wire together and a fantastic spark jumped at the terrified little man.  The light overhead flickered menacingly as Rosco advanced.
   â€œErrrrrrrrr.....” the little man squeaked, eyes darting between the light and the wires.  “A'ight, a'ight, me b'y!  Hald yer jib!  Less draw a cov'ent, ye 'n' me.”
   Rosco paused.  “...What?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.
   â€œA cov'ent, me b'y!  A bahgain!”
   â€œA bargain?” Rosco asked.
   â€œAye!  Ye gimme but a one of dose shinin' sweedies, fer me achin' toot, see b'y?  'N' den I's be yammerin' alls where ye to.”
   Rosco stepped back to the table.  “Let me get this straight.  I give you a candy,” he picked on up between his fingers.  “And you'll tell me where the gold is.”
   â€œAye!  At th' once!”
   Rosco looked at Davey, who shrugged and nodded.  “Alright,” he said.  “But if you don't tell us, I get to light you up like a Christmas tree.”
   â€œNare afeared be ye!” the leprechaun vowed.
   Rosco advanced slowly and the leprechaun opened his mouth expectantly.  Davey adjusted his dart gun in readiness, just in case.  Rosco popped the hard candy into the leprechaun's mouth, then quickly stepped back.
    A look of pure delight came over the leprechaun's face, eyes closed and head shaking side to side.  “Ah, 'tis poor heav'n, me b'y!  Sweet like a foxy head, go awn wich ya!”  He opened his sparkling, mischievous eyes and grinned.
   Rosco instinctively reached for the taser.  “Now where's the gold?” he asked, just a bit of desperation creeping into his voice.  “Don't give us any trouble!  Where's it at?!?”
   The leprechaun rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.  “I tells ye b'y, me nerves is right rubbed raw at yer liddle tay party here.”  He puckered his mouth like a whistle and then spat the hard candy up, shattering the lightbulb overhead, casting the windowless room into complete darkness.  Rosco shot his taser blindly, and heard the leprechaun's chair tip over.
   â€œWHERE IS HE?” Davey shouted.  There was another crash and Rosco felt a sharp stab in his stomach.  He reached down and felt the end of the tranquilizer dart sticking out of his abdomen.  A couple seconds later there were sparks of electricity accompanied by Davey's screams.  By then Rosco was already on his knees, crawling forward, his whole body beginning to tingle.  The room echoed with a sawing sound as he reached out and felt the high chair, with the little green suit still duct-taped to it, empty but for the slimy film of butter inside of it.  He collapsed onto his side, conscious only long enough to see the leprechaun-shaped hole cut through the door to let in the light, and a little pasty-white bummed figure clicking his heels in the air beyond.
 

I usually don't have a clue what you guys are guessing at (especially Ponch), but I think this might be "The Man Who Would Be King".

I just wanted to let Chef know that I am ...er, cooking up a little something as we speak.  Who else is on this? 

I don't think there's any opposition, and I highly doubt Ali or Iceboty would object. You should feel free to go ahead.

I'd say start a master thread on the competition and activity board that sets out what the workshop will be about and how long it is anticipated to run, and which asks people to commit to participating.  We could even run the first one there with all the individual participant threads -the moderators know how to move threads later on if they decide to create a separate board.  We'll just make sure that all participants preface their thread title with the workshop's title so that we can keep track of them all.
   Let's learn some art!

Sorry, you mentioned Ursula Andress and I just kind of zoned out after that....

    I vote in favour of a workshop forum.  The critics' lounge is great for feedback, and heaven knows I've learned a lot there, but I find it has a reactionary format and sometimes even an adversarial feel: I suck, you point it out, if I'm open/motivated enough I listen and improve.  Folks invest a lot emotionally in the content there since it's for their babies (er, games....), so sometimes they get themselves worked up.  I would like to see a place where learning and skill development is emphasized, and the projects are studies and not actual GIPs.  I am 100% interested in this background workshop since I think it is definitely where I struggle the most at game design.  I think there would be demand for other workshops not only in all aspects of game design, but perhaps the software department as well (I'd be much more motivated to figure GIMP out if I could do it in a group workshop format, for example; and maybe Calin could teach us all to dance the Lula?).  However, I do think it's a good idea to pilot the idea first.
    A longer term problem to consider is the recruitment of energetic and knowledgeable people to run the workshops.  Maybe people who are interested in running a workshop can start a sticky thread specifying what they intend to teach in the workshop and maybe their qualifications for doing so if they're not well known, and then the thread will be given two weeks to generate enough enthusiasm to go ahead before being locked/demoted (to prevent clutter).  That way if you're shopping for a workshop you'll know where to look, and we won't have dozens of workshops running with only one or two participants.  Heck, maybe the workshops could even be advertised on the main board (I missed the workshop 4 years ago because I was not frequenting the C&A board at the time).

Hey Zabnat, I want to play real football with you.  Can you bend the rules a bit and have one team of seven? 

Nice work Chef!  I knew you had it in you.  And nice work on that new signature, WHAM, if that's your real name. 

Looking forward to the next competition.

I sense this topic is slowly slipping off the radar.  Is there any progress on this front?  Has anyone asked permission of the C&A board moderators?  Ideally, yes, there would be an awesome artist running it, but I am of the opinion that running a BG drawing workshop without one would be better than no workshop at all.  Basically we just need some BG criteria and some rules, and off we go; worse case scenario we end up giving each other feedback/critiques instead of an "expert", but I'm sure we'll draw a lot of attention once we get up and running.  Calin, are you still taking the lead on this?