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*arrows away* :)

I don't really have any decks built right now (took them all apart) and don't have any Apprentice decklists either (my computer's power source is dead or something). But I can probably throw something together. What format?

The only way to get around it would be for you and your partner to use completely different decks. If you both use black as a primary color, one of you will have to refrain from using Dark Rituals. There are, of course, tons of combinations of decks that this doesn't affect. But I'd much rather...

I did more than skim, and I couldn't see the libel (or slander, as you call it) you are referring to. Could you point it out?

*Oversoul goes into a coma--a cataclysmic coma!* *Ransac and Theorgg are swept into the heart of the firestorm.*

It's now being sold under your name, leading to many bad jokes. I wish I knew all of the bad jokes that have ever been told.

Smithsonian

But at that moment, Theorgg stepped on the vehicle.

Not me. Then who?

After running into the establishment, he was confronted by a gang of clowns.

I must have missed this before. Casual two-headed giant games were fun because you could throw any of your decks into the mix and see how things played out. This rule is a huge blow to that. I was never the sort who built decks specifically for one variant or another (I did some 150-card...

Some control decks will probably be able to fetch them at the end of an opponent's turn, and not lose any life at all.

*Oversoul plucks the speck out of the air.* There you are. I thought I'd lost you for good. Ransac, what are you looking at anyway? *Looks up.* Hey, what's that thing falling from the sky?

Besides, there is no such thing as "palestiens."

Theories don't have goals. So I'm not sure what you mean by "failing."

And so he set off, in search of the elusive recipe.

Weevils grab Ransac as he cowers behind Oversoul, and take him to their weevil stronghold, in order to hold a weevilish feast with his body as the main course.

Not really. What are you doing?

A large chunk of the moon, which is made of cheese, breaks off and falls on you, pulverizing your body. I wish I had Ransac's cheese.

Tamarin