Harbinger

There are different levels of human stupidity. First there’s the kind you and I experience with regular intervals, like when we look back on something we did and ask ourselves “Why on earth did I do that? It was really stupid”. Then there’s the slightly more severe kind, where people don’t really understand how stupid they are, doing the same mistakes over and over again. Finally, there are those who can’t even follow the simplest of instructions, where the information literally goes in through one ear and out through the other. Those are the people who have trouble managing even the simplest of jobs, usually causing more damage than productivity. And then there’s Ogian. Some of you might not remember Ogian. Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean you belong to any of the more stupid groups of people I mentioned above. Ogian is simply a very unremarkable person. Most people don’t pay much attention to him. Not unless you get involved in a game of Yahtzee with him, of course. Yahtzee is Ogian’s only passion in life. It’s in his heart and soul. He’d play Yahtzee with the Devil himself if there was no one else around. When he plays Yahtzee he feels truly alive. During the game he’s king. The rest of the time he’s just… him. You might think that such a devoted player would follow the rules to the letter. Ogian doesn’t. He cheats like a goddamn pig. He’s also a big one for showmanship when it comes to Yahtzee. He likes to put the dice on his head and nod them onto the table instead of throwing them like normal people do. If you’re unlucky he’ll put the dice in his mouth, gargle for a few moments, and spit them out on the table. There are numerous other ways he uses when he plays. Listing them all would make this book twice as long. Did the word gargle awaken any old memories? I thought it might. Ogian belonged to the Elephant People, where one of the most important positions was that of the gargling woman, an office currently occupied by an elderly hag named Hannah. The gargling woman was, through her constant gargling of questionable liquids, in contact with the Elephant God. No one knew exactly how the exchange worked, but isn’t that always the way with religion? Jennibal would, naturally, not have believed in the sincerity of the gargling woman’s practice. But back to Ogian now. Like I mentioned before Ogian wasn’t very smart. He was perhaps as far from smart as is humanly possible. Or not quite. There used to be someone else who was – believe it or not – a little more stupid than he. The person in question was also far better looking. The one I’m talking about was chieftain of the Telu tribe for a time. She later died when a stone giant crashed through a cliff wall, burying our stupid friend under several tons of broken rock. But you know what they say about the dead. You don’t? Neither do I. I just thought that phrase sounded nice.