In a sanctioned 1.x tournament last Sunday a Morphling got up off of the table and walked out on a game in progress.

"I don't get paid enough for this!" Exclaimed the Morphling as it threw it's 4 arms up in disgust when it's controller tapped out for a Warped Devotion and a Shadowmage Infiltrator, Countermagic in hand, and allowed an Oath of Druids to resolve.

We cought up to the Morphling at a bar on the corner down the block from the card shop. He sat with a pint in each of 2 fists and a hand buried in a bowl of peanuts, wiping sweat from one of its brows. "I win games, that's my job. I hit the table, I hold off armies, and I beat the opponent about the head and shoulders. All my controller needs to do is put me safely into play and watch my back a little while I do my job." It went on, Obviously fed up with todays events. When probed for an explanation the Morphling offered the following account:

"How many times must I be expected to save losing games that by all rights should have been won 20 minutes before? Is Jhonny Magic, a Temporal Adept, a capsize and 9 land not enough to lock up a game? At that point I should get to sit on the bench and take a breather."

"And how many times do I have to watch an Oath of Druids come down without the slightest bit of opposition? Do you KNOW how bad it burns when a Crater Hellion jumps out of the opponent's deck? It sure as hell aint soft and cozy!"

We tried to inturrupt but were cut off as the Morphling continued it's tirade.

"And that standoff, OH MY GOD! Me on our side with lots of untapped land. Opponent's at 2 life, I see blood within my reach... Then he topdecks a Morphling. But I'm not scared, he's only got 1 land left, and I know my controller has a capsize in hand! This is it I figure. Time to go for the kill. I can win the game any number of ways this attack step... but the stupid S.O.B. doesn't send me in!"

"I've had enough! It HURTS watching play this bad! It physically HURTS."

The Morphling, after another 2 pints, swore never to play for that deck again, nor for that player. It will look for a pro player to work for or it will retire and leave itself in a crumpled mess on the side of the road.

- Sedjtroll

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In a sanctioned 1.x tournament last Sunday a Morphling got up off of the table and walked out on a game in progress.

"I don't get paid enough for this!" Exclaimed the Morphling as it threw it's 4 arms up in disgust when it's controller tapped out for a Warped Devotion and a Shadowmage Infiltrator, Countermagic in hand, and allowed an Oath of Druids to resolve.

We cought up to the Morphling at a bar on the corner down the block from the card shop. He sat with a pint in each of 2 fists and a hand buried in a bowl of peanuts, wiping sweat from one of its brows. "I win games, that's my job. I hit the table, I hold off armies, and I beat the opponent about the head and shoulders. All my controller needs to do is put me safely into play and watch my back a little while I do my job." It went on, Obviously fed up with todays events. When probed for an explanation the Morphling offered the following account:

"How many times must I be expected to save losing games that by all rights should have been won 20 minutes before? Is Jhonny Magic, a Temporal Adept, a capsize and 9 land not enough to lock up a game? At that point I should get to sit on the bench and take a breather."

"And how many times do I have to watch an Oath of Druids come down without the slightest bit of opposition? Do you KNOW how bad it burns when a Crater Hellion jumps out of the opponent's deck? It sure as hell aint soft and cozy!"

We tried to inturrupt but were cut off as the Morphling continued it's tirade.

"And that standoff, OH MY GOD! Me on our side with lots of untapped land. Opponent's at 2 life, I see blood within my reach... Then he topdecks a Morphling. But I'm not scared, he's only got 1 land left, and I know my controller has a capsize in hand! This is it I figure. Time to go for the kill. I can win the game any number of ways this attack step... but the stupid S.O.B. doesn't send me in!"

"I've had enough! It HURTS watching play this bad! It physically HURTS."

The Morphling, after another 2 pints, swore never to play for that deck again, nor for that player. It will look for a pro player to work for or it will retire and leave itself in a crumpled mess on the side of the road.

- Sedjtroll

Discuss this article in the Magic: the Gathering Forums!