Plans, even the best laid plans, are like ideas drawn in the sand.
You have a lot of fun drawing it, but as soon as the enemy appears, everything gets fu- ehm. I mean, everything gets messed up. That's why he is called the enemy.
I had planned for a glorious and climactic victory over the Grand Melee by dealing with the remaining two thousand, having the whole spotlight on me and securing containers of bacon and roast pork for myself that would last me for years.
Alas, it was not to be.
I mean, of course the crown would go to me. The bacon and roast pork too. There was no question about it.
But the way the Grand Melee ended was definitely not the way I had envisioned at all!
Instead of the whole crowd cheering for me, or at the very least, sitting in stunned silence over my awesomeness, they were all… cheering for a red hot battle between the Lins and the Wangs!
