A work in progress
One of the eternal joys of young Du Gourmands friendship is that he regularly tells you that such and such a thing cannot be done. This is usually followed by a ridiculous bet. Considering the trouble he's gotten me into in the past, I should be more careful, but this one is one of the more innocuous examples of the breed.
We are hoping to play some Crimean games shortly, specifically the Alma. The village of Bourliouk was to the front of the Allied advance and there were a number of vineyards there that gave some cover to the infantry as they crossed the river. I was using the Memoir '44 hedgerow rules for them and Du Gourmand told me that I should use the hedgerow terrain pieces that I had already made up.
I responded I would do nothing of the sort, to which he countered that there was no practical way of representing a vineyard in 1/72 on a wargames table. The result was a bet that I could not produce eight hexes worth of vineyards. Which is why I have been gluing matchsticks to lollypop sticks this evening using a very simple tutorial put out by the Flames of Wars chaps.
A portrait of Kinch shortly after
The bet in question is for a bottle of wine, as befits the subject matter, but I had to put some extra conditions on the wager. You see in the past, young Du Gourmand has arrived at my home bearing a bottle of "Cream of Cork: Anglo-Irish Fortified Wine".
The British are a fine people blessed with many gifts, wine making is not one of them. Ireland has many a peculiar genius, but ours are more suited to the consumption rather than to the production. To say that this bottle was the most evil thing that has ever crossed my lips is an understatement. I don't think I actually managed to finish my glass, nor to be fair, did Du Gourmand. I keep the remainder in the drinks cabinet as a monument to man's hubris.
This wine was so bad, I can not actually find a single image of it on the Internet. It has been struck from the record.
With that in mind, I've put the following conditions on the bet. It must be red. It must come from France and come in a bottle with a cork in it.
Even so, I fear that I have only challenged Du Gourmand's ingenuity.