Fall 1913

The Eternally Frustrating Orders:
The Par-For-The-Course Results:
I don't even know what to say. It's like you guys got taught how to play Diplo by a bunch of fucking filthy, hacky sack playing hippies, who in turn learned how to play when they all met as children at a really pleasant Quaker school in an bucolic upscale suburb of, oh, lets say Denver.

Builds:
Turkey +/- 0
UK +1
France +1

Suck some dicks you milquetoasts. Take a page out of Cherry's book and actually do something. Grah!

Spring 1913

The Pathetic Orders:
The Predictable Results:

Flying in the face of any sense of logic, gamesmanship or fun, King Benji III and the Marquis du Salmond continue to hold hands, gaze longingly into each others eyes, and not fuck with each other. Turkey alone remains. Grand Vizier Cherry stares into the middle distance, squinting his dusky eyes and grinding his stained teeth, burdened with the grim knowledge that he is the last stalwart defender to stand in defiance of this juggernaut of friendship and bushy-tailed sunshine rainbow feelings that has been trundling it's way across the continent. He has dispatched spies and infiltrators to London and Paris, to whisper in the ears of monarchs and let them know that you need 18 supply centers to win, and there are only 34 on the map.

Fall 1912, Builds & Disbands

Here you go, suckers!

Fall 1912

The Pontificatory Orders:
The Bloviational Results:
Ben: go fuck up Terry
Terry: go fuck up Ben
Cherry: Hang tough brother, you got these bastards just where you want 'em

Builds/Disbands
UK +1
France +2
Turkey -1

Get 'em at me suciers!

Spring 1912, Retreats

Spring 1912

The Pulchritudinous Orders:
The Insalubrious Results:

And then there were three. There you have it folks, Czar Alterio went and bought the collective farm. Grand Vizier Cherry sent Czalterio to the great big nonprofit leftist bookstore in the sky as he buttfucked his way back into Constantinople. "With my last breath I curse Zoidberg!" he was heard to shout. Even as the Sultan reclaimed his capitol Rumania, Tunis and Serbia fell to the much feared Limpwristed Dandy Corps of the great Franco-Turdburgler alliance. Those in the know have been asking each other in cartoonish whispers when that alliance will finally crumble and we'll all get to see the continent tear itself apart in the Andre the Giant vs Hulk Hogan style slaughterfest we've all been waiting for.

PS Cherry, we need a retreat for the Serbian. He can skedaddle to Albania or Greece.

Spring 1912

Here you go suckers

Fall 1911

The Nauseating Orders:
The Expectoratory Results:

King Benji III just buttfucked Russia into total submission. Now only a few desperate cells of Commie freedom fighters remain holed up somewhere in Constantinople and scattered in the mountains of Armenia. The King sent a delicately worded telegraph to his powdered and perfumed life partner, rubbing it in the Marquis' face that his pale and uncircumcised foppish dandies had accomplished what Napoleon could not. He responded by telling Benji that the King had something else that du Salmond would prefer to have rubbed in his face, if possible. Meanwhile, Grand Vizier Cherry is reportedly executing his general staff, Darth Vader style, in an attempt to inspire some kind of last-ditch surprise offensive and save his people before they're forced to abandon their delicious and heart-healthy Mediterranean cuisine in favor of some disgusting starchy bullshit with potatoes all over it.

Builds/Disbands:

UK +2
Turkey -1
Russia -1
France big goose egg

Spring 1911

The Deleterious Orders:
The Buttfuckerious Results:
Nice work, everybody. You're all a bunch of really great Diplomacy players. You all deserve pats on the back. Go out and buy yourselves something nice.

Spring 1911

Germany and Italy are officially out of this game as of Spring 1911. The latest reports have the Kaiser and Il Rofo enjoying their exile, quietly chuckling as they clink the tiki-visaged cups of their elaborately garnished cocktails while they lounge on a white sand beach, soaking in the rays and watching the war on a simulcast television, as coffee-skinned girls bring them more drinks and the sun sets before them in a tranquil riot of glorious color.


Just kidding, they were the first ones against the wall when the Marquis du Salmond laid waste to their capitol cities. Bwah-bwaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Fall 1910 (Again, it would seem. I don't know, maybe ze Germans invented some kind of Romulan-esque time weapon)

The Punctual Orders:
The Only Avenues of Retreat:
The Disturbingly Blue-Tinted Results:

Kaplizzo! Despite the delays this week, we've got a pretty serious set of moves. The double-breasted, stiff-upper-lipped shock troopers of King Benji III marched on Moscow, took one look at the Russian tea room and said "Blimey crumpets! I'll be bug-snarkered, I will!" before putting all of Red Square to the torch to make room for a place that serves gin and liver pie. Czar Alterio's troubles weren't limited to the sneering calls of "choke on it guv'nah!" from the British, as he had to contend with the unchecked brutality of a swarthy horde of unwashed Saracens marching from the south. When Grand Vizier Cherrys beturbaned and unshaven horde was done with him, the poor Czar was forced to retreat to the decidedly low-rent Rumania and Armenia, where all he has to look forward to is lukewarm beet gruel and thick peasant women with too few eyebrows and too many moles. Meanwhile Marquis du Salmond just chills in the West, buttfucking whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and everyone seems to be totally cool with it, bro. Rumors abound that the notoriously decadent Marquis is possessed of certain appetites and he has been having the most comely young men and the most robust livestock sent from his newly conquered territories to the palace at Versailles for his amusement.

Builds/Disbands

France +2
Britain +1
Turkey +1
Russia -1

Get em in, suckahs

Fall 1910, or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying & Love The Ever-Variegating Real Estate Market

The Banananuts Orders:
The Wacky Races-esque Results:

BAM! In one elegant Crouching Tiger-ish maneuver, the Marquis buttfucked Kaiser von Turley to death and then swung around and buttfucked Il Rofo to death with the Kaisers grotesquely dismembered body. Meanwhile King Benji continues to pour lemon juice into gaping papercut on Czarterios commie ballsack as he took away Galicia in the manner of a cartoon bully who dangles a milquetoast by his feet as coins fall from his upturned pockets (need a retreat order there, by the way- Ukrane or Bohemia). What else is going on? Why, what else ISN'T going on? There's almost too much to talk about, I'm a-getting the vapors. Turkey and France traded Tunis for Trieste while the Grand Vizier made a pretty compelling argument for teaching everyone in the Balkans which way Mecca is. But whats this? There are troubling and unconfirmed reports of Cyrillic street signs popping up in Ankara. Faaaaaaaaaaaaaascinating stuff. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucking Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaascinating.

Bullshit Spring 1909

Ok, here are the builds and disbands. I don't care what you guys do w/r/t civil disorder, etc. Unless anyone wants to organize a vote or some shit, I say we just let it slide and say we skipped a day and orders are due tomorrow evening like normal. Eat a bag of dicks

Love,
the Dungeonmaster

Fall 1909 Builds/Disbands

Builds

France +1
England +1

Disbands

Italy -1
Russia -1

Get em at me!

Fall 1909

The Proprietary Orders:
The Non-Euclidean Results:
Retreat me up, Czalterio!

Spring 1909

The Puzzling Orders:
The Non-Elucidating Results:
Grizzly shit. Marquis du Salmond continues his ruthless campaign of subjugating all Mediterranean resort facilities, crushing the overpaid Gauloise-smoking busboys and white-jacketed concierges beneath his designer jackboots. He still maintains a long-distance relationship with noted boy toy King Benji, who is locked in a high stakes rock paper scissors contest with Czar Alterio, who managed to slip his hand undetected into the shirt of Grand Vizier Cherry and twist his Armenia-shaped nipple until it squirted some milky blood. Sources report the Grand Vizier is meeting with his surgeons about possible courses of treatment for the grotesque and malformed nipple. However Cherry has other pieces of kebab on his skewer, and so he turns his beady and heavy-browed eyes to the West. Is the Vizier to be the first man to stand up to the powdered and perfumed Marquis and say "excuse me, sir, but I think I speak for everyone when I say that it's entirely possible that you've taken juuuust about your fair share of European territory."? Only time shall tell. No retreats this season cause you all suck at this. Peace motherfuckers!

<3 zee Dungeonmastah

Fall 1908 Builds/Disbands

Blammo

Fall 1908 Builds/Disbands

Builds & Disbands

France +1
Turkey+2

Italy -2 (yeeowch!)

Fall 1908

The Mellifluous Orders:
The Discordant Results:

For the first time in a dog's age, something interesting is happening over here in Hazzard County. Now, some folks would say that this game was all locked up, and that Marquis du Hogg and King Rosco was a-gonna run away with the whole shebang. But it looks like them Duke boys were at it again, and they went and did something about it. First of all, Rofo Duke went and jumped the General Lee clear over the Mediterranean Ocean and landed safely in Spain! Can you believe that? Meanwhile ole Cherry Duke set a little trap for his brother and up and took all of the Peloponnesian peninsula away from him. Uh-oh! Daisy ain't gonna like hearing about that! Uncle Jessie, on the other hand didn't do so well when King Rosco sent Cooter on over to the garage to twist his nipple until he finally gave over the rare Livonian carburetor, that will give the Hazzard County sheriff's department the ability to clear some really gnarly jumps.

Terry, gimme a retreat order (you can go to Gascony or Portugal)
Joe, youre going to Warsaw, whether you like it or not

Spring 1908, retreats

Spring 1908

The Supercilious Orders:
The Humbling Results:
The alliance between the Marquis du Salmond and King Benji III continues unabated. This Spring marks a very special milestone for the happy couple. As of right now, they both have 9 Supply Centers, half of the requirement for victory. Something to think about, everyone who isn't Terry and Ben. Also, I'll be goddamned if you two try and pull some fruitcake "shared victory" bullshit.

Il Rofo, holler at me with a retreat order, you can get into Tus, Apu or Tri

Spring 1908

Fall 1907 Builds & Disbands

Woof. Crazy shit, bros. In a move of unparalleled sneakiness and questionable genius, Marquis Du Salmond slipped his manicured hand into the blouse of Il Rofo, and tweaked his nipple by retreating into his capitol seizing it at the last minute! Blammorelli.

Builds:

England +1
France +2

Disbands

Italy -2 (yowch!)

Holler!

Fall 1907

The Salacious Orders:
The Lascivious Results:
No time for a cute story today, gentlemen. Sozballs. Marquis Du Salmond! Gimme a retreat order, suckah

Spring 1907 (cont...)

Spring 1907

The Peristaltic Orders:
The Expectoratory Results (with one retreat):

A Simple Fable, with a Moral:

Once upon a time there was a frog and a lion, and they were the best of friends. They made an unusual pair; after all, who ever heard of a frog and a lion being friends? But friends they were, and they spent all their time together, frolicking in the fields, or lazing about in the swamps. "Oh", said everyone, "those two couldn't possibly hurt anyone. Look at the way they are constantly holding hands and looking into each others eyes. They are the gentlest souls in all of Animal-Towne." Meanwhile, Frog and Lion spent their days arguing over which one of them loved the other more and amassing vast reserves of rifles, artillery shells and mustard gas. "Oh, how adorable!", said the other residents of animal-towne, "Lion and Frog are making things. How industrious! Let's leave them too it, they're too cute to ever bother any of us."
But then one day, Frog and Lion decided that they were better than everyone else, and that because they were so much better, it was their divine sword-from-the-most-high right, nay, Duty to absolutely exterminate all the other denizens of Animal-Towne. As their storm troopers goose-stepped their way across the scorched earth of Animal-Towne, all the poor other animals wailed "Why? We just let Frog and Lion enjoy themselves and never bothered them at all!! What did we do to deserve this? Woe is me!!!"


Moral of the story: Terry and Ben are wicked fucking homos.


Il Rofo, I need a retreat order for Venice. He can go to Apulia or Tuscany. Tunis bounced on the double, put the pedal to the floor, and made tracks for North Africa, which was his only option.

Fall 1906 Builds/Disbands

Fall 1906

The Unconscionable Orders:
The Head-Clutching Results (with retreats):
The Unprecedented Third Map:

We have our first casualty of war, ladies and gentlemen! Yes that's right, while the war in Europe rages, the poor disenfranchised leader of the Austrian nation-state Archduke Guerra slips this mortal coil, not to the sound of cannon and battle, as he had hoped, but to the much more terrible cacophony of thunderous indifference. The Archduke will be briefly mourned and vaguely remembered for dying as he lived: making a feeble attempt to take Vienna that was countered by an ever-so-slightly-less feeble defense on the part of Kaiser von Turley, who swatted away the attacker in the manner of a sweaty, morbidly obese woman with labored breathing swatting away a bothersome mosquito as she watches her stories and eats bon-bons in her un-airconditioned double-wide trailer.
Grand Vizier Cherry was rumored to shed one solitary, lonely teardrop for his beloved ward before steeling himself for the greatest two-way, AC/DC buttfucking the Mediterranean has seen in this protracted, distended, pink sock-like conflict. After brutal fighting in the Peloponnese, Il Rofo and the Vizier had fought each other to a standstill in massively complicated Greek campaign, only to both be forced to retreat to Albania, where the exhausted and battleweary troops were mercilessly exterminated by the grim and steely-eyed Zaganjori mountain fighters. When the slaughter was over, the hills of Albania sang with their dreaded battle cry of "Dooooooo-riiiiiiiiiitos!"
The Marquis failed to seize any of Rofos improbably well-defended territory, despite deploying his entire fucking nation down to the Mediterranean. Maybe next year, froggie! However, his best friend, confidant, and between-the-covers-butthole-lover King Benji III fared much better in the frozen north, as he cruelly twisted the knife that he had previously jellied into Czar Alterios guthouse last spring. "Ow! Knock it off!", the Czar was reported to have said, as Pax Britannia took a giant rape-shaped dump on all of his former Scandinavian protectorates.

Builds:
England +1
Italy +1
Turkey +1

Disbands:
Austria -1 (Don't worry EG, you'll get em next time, tiger!)

Spring 1906

The Arousing Orders:
The Tumescent Results:

A quaint distraction, in the form of a play to be performed in one act

KING BENJI III: Excuse me, Czar Alterio?
CZAR ALTERIO: Yes, my good man? What can I do for...
KING BENJI III swings a shovel around and smacks Czar Alterio right in the face-nuts
CZAR ALTERIO (spitting out blood and broken teeth): The fuck, man?!
MARQUIS DU SALMOND: Il Rofo, my friend and neighbor! Well met, good chap! I couldn't help but notice you bending over seductively while you washed that corvette in your drive-way. Would you mind if I came over this flimsy picket fence and helped myself to a glass of that delicious..."lemonade" your wife makes?
IL ROFO: Please hold on, dearest Sultan Cherry. I seem to have a slight problem to the West. Surely I can trust you to not mess with any of my stuff while I'm away dealing with it?
SULTAN CHERRY: Il Rofo, it shall be no problem at all. I shall just busy myself with my favorite charity, the philanthropic activity of lifting up from poverty and inner city gang activity the disadvantaged Austro-Hungarian people.
CZAR ALTERIO (still working at a stubborn broken tooth): Lousy Benji over there thinking hes the stupid King of England or something. Why I oughta, grumble, mumble, etc.
Sees ARCHDUKE GUERRA and suddenly gets an idea
Hey! C'mere you!
Grabs the Archduke by the scruff of his collar and cartoonishly kicks him down the street and into Galacia
ARCHDUKE GUERRA: teeheeheeee!
KAISER MAGIC VON TURLEY whistles tunelessly and nervously


Fin

Fall 1905 Bulds/Disbands

Fall 1905

The Richter Gnar-Gnar Orders:
The Crucsh-Dawg Results:

Bros! Look at this gnarly bullshit! Where to start dudes?

First off, it looks like the notoriously horny Marquis du Salmond just couldn't sit idly by and let Il Rofo just chill there, bending over seductively to pick up his keys or something, with his underwear on backwards. A great order went out to the French forces: "strap on your buttfucking boots and head towards Italy, garcons!"

Italy can't yet be bothered to care, for Il Rofo is still basking in his successes in his conquest of Greece. How happy could a young dictator be? The Turks warmed up that toilet seat, and now the Wops are going to have a lovely opportunity to take a big shit on it. By which I of course mean, buttfucking the ever living shit out of a Greek population that has already become acclimatised to brutal and daily rapes and indignities at the hands of the foreign-sounding and be-turbaned Turks.

Meanwhile, King Benji III has decided to get out of the kitchen and assert his independence by staging some serious buttfucking of his own, this time directed at the Soviet settlements in Scandinavia, who were just minding their own business, enjoying socialized health care, and plotting the downfall of Pax Brittania! Fuck those guys, am I right Benji? In any case, those Swedes better put down the borscht and pick up the spotted dick, know what I'm sayin?

On her southern front, Czar Alterio's Red Army comrades continue their regional game of slappy-slappy with the famously slap-happy Turks. This conflict still seems to still be focusing on the Elian Gonzalez of Eastern Europe, the deposed Archduke Guerra, improbably entrenched in Rumania with a small cadre of elite stormtroopers/sommeliers. When will this festering Balkan zit come to a ripe, turgid head and burst, spraying the continent with the grizzly pus of glory and conquest?

And finally and most unexpectedly, the formerly staid and aristocratic Kaiser Magic von Turley has put down the brandy snifter and picked up the hash pipe, turtleneck, and paint brush. Yes that's right, bru-brows, he has decamped for Bohemia, where a bright future of bongo drums and beat poetry awaits.


I took the liberty of retreating the Russian and Italian forces to the only options available to them, namely Finland and the Eastern Mediterranean. Here are your builds and disbands:

England +1
Italy +1
Russia -1
Turkey -1

Get em in. Blammo!