Jinx in Hell
A Short Repast
Jim Vassilakos (email@example.com) Let us now turn back to a time preceding Jinx’s Vacation, to a point where she has not, as yet, completed her first mission. Just prior to this scene, Baalzephon refers Jinx to Furcas, a Grand Duke of Hell, in order that Jinx may study and learn such spells as are forbidden to all save the servants of the greater powers. The backdrop is actually a bit more convoluted, but all that the reader need know at this point is that Jinx means to petition Furcas for access to his necromantic library, officially known as The Necrology.
The Necrology turns out to be a vast structure built upon a foundation of charred bone. A rancid stench issues from the eight towers which take up positions at its feet, and upon its eight outer walls are cast the lords of death of the various pantheons, their coal black visages regal and supreme as though to either welcome them hither or pay homage to them en masse. A skeletal guard well over a thousand strong lay before the structure’s inky entrance, lining the road two or three deep on both sides as it twists and turns up the steep embankment, the moans and muted whispers of unprocessed soul bricks echoing along the length of the concourse. Finally, some hundred feet from the entrance, a pit fiend emerges followed by six kere, their eyes dark and emotionless while his glint with a transfixed curiosity. “State your business.” Jinx stops where she’s at, looks at the pit fiend from her location, and states, “A bit of distance between us to blurt out my business, but I am here with the approval of Baalzephon to converse with Furcas.” “You are a messenger?” “Not exactly.” “You come bearing a tithe from Baalzephon?” “A what?” “A tithe. Furcas does not appreciate those who fail to bring presents.” “I am not interested in his appreciation, nor yours. If you value your hide, you will take me to him at once.” The pit fiend glares for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to take that sort of abuse from a mere female, particularly in front of his subordinates, and with an army of skeletal warriors at his back. Then again, he did sort of ask for it, and supposing that Jinx were a direct servant of Baalzephon’s, he’d be taking a near-suicidal risk by striking her down. “Follow me,” he finally states, turning around and letting the kere encircle her before proceeding. Even as they approach the dark entrance, it is impossible to see beyond the portal’s rim, and as he disappears within, only scant footsteps ahead, it is as though he has walked through an impenetrable shroud. Once inside, however, Jinx finds herself within a chamber of magical portals, many dozens of them scattered about as a fine grey mist swirls about, conveying the impression of etherealness, although from her studies she suspects that to be quite impossible.1 Through some of these portals she can see vast chambers full of books & scrolls. Others give passage to studies, many of which provide a view of the outside from several stories high. Still others are clouded by an opaque haze, as though the occupants of these rooms wish to have a little privacy. The Pit Fiend leads her through one of these latter portals, guiding her into a bare room with a large obsidian table and a distorted view of one of the flaming towers outside through a thick, marbled window. Jinx notices, however, that the kere did not follow. The pit fiend turns around, seeming to appraise her with mischievous eyes now that he’s got her alone.
“Furcas will soon be here,” he says. “Do you have any last words you’d like me to pass on to your master in case he doesn’t take kindly to your intrusion?” “You have a sense of humor,” Jinx says while polymorphing back into her true appearance2, “it shows you have confidence…that you’ve worked for Furcas for quite some time,” she continues as his visage alters slightly at the bewitching figure that now stands before him. “I have,” he says in a careful manner, not sure if his eyes should be displaying such interest toward something that may be a gift to his master. “Good. You may as well see me for what I normally am, since I might, with Furcas’ permission, be staying here for a…spell. Your name, what is it?” “Ladies first.” Just then, one of the kere walk in. “Gordo, the master says he wishes to see this one immediately.”3 The pit fiend glares at her for her impeccable timing, not that it really matters much. Then he motions for Jinx to follow, and two portals later she finds herself in a dining room, its walls exquisitely decorated with
At this point in her studies, Jinx knows of Ethereal-1, the plane of ghosts and spirits that borders the mortal realms but which is blended into the fabric of the outer planes such that it cannot exist apart from them. However, she has not yet learned of the deep ethereal planes where some gods and their servants prefer to tread unbeknownst even to more common ethereal travelers.
“True” being a relative term…With a comeliness of 22 at this point in the story, Jinx stands out in a crowd. Hence, being that she doesn’t want to be seen on Dis, for fear of such sightings somehow working their way back to her mother, she is going most everywhere incognito via her ability to polymorph. Only now does she reveal her “true” self, and, needless to say, it is a sight that the pit fiend was not expecting. 3 I had mixed feelings about using such a powerful class of devil for comic relief. The truth is, if I’d been playing him more convincingly, I’d have had to play him more intelligently.
paintings and tapestries depicting scenes of necromantic ritual. Strangely enough, they all seem to be of various stages of the same necromantic ritual, the preparation of a live hobbit for some ghastly ordeal. The first shows the hobbit entering the room. The second shows him being gagged and tied on to a table (the table directly in front of her as chance would have it). The third shows the casting of some spell upon him by a diabolically handsome, long-horned devil, and the fourth shows the hobbit’s belly being slit open, much to his personal discomfort. Finally, there is the scene before her, in the actual flesh as it were, the long-horned devil dining upon his furry-footed guest who is still writhing in horrible pain, trying to scream but unable, and strangely, unable to die as well. “Leave us,” Furcas says to Gordo, smiling at Jinx as soon as the three (she, he, and their meal) are alone. “Baalzephon mentioned that you might be arriving sooner or later. Personally, I don’t understand what took you. One would think the acquisition of knowledge to be at the top of one’s list of priorities, but then I suppose that the necessities of existence often interfere in that pursuit. Speaking of which, let me not be a rude host.” With a flick of his finger, a plate, fork, and knife appear on the table near where Jinx is presently standing, and the chair that rests there actually crawls out a good two or three feet to accommodate her should she decide to sit down. “Thank you,” Jinx says as she sits, “…the acquisition of knowledge is at the top of my list of priorities,” Jinx says respectfully. “However, the number of priorities on my list is quite daunting, but why complain to someone I’ve never met? …I shouldn’t fuss on our first meeting—” “Fuss away, my child, fuss away,” he says delicately between bites, swallowing a succulent piece of breast meat before continuing “There is much to be learned from the gripes of others.” Jinx pauses a moment, takes the knife and fork, and proceeds to cut a nice piece from the hobbit’s left bicep. “I see you’ve paused for reflection,” Furcas begins. “Unfortunate…the fuss
will be more cautious now—less to be learned.” “…Loyalty to Mephisto,” Jinx begins while looking at the ring she wears, “commanded by Adramelech,” she continues while taking out her medallion4, “assigned to Baalzephon —who desires me to be a general,” Jinx says with a chuckle, “yet pulled to the path which you have chosen,” Jinx says while lowering her polymorph still further to expose her veined skin.5 “…And what path is that?” “Necromancy.” “Yet you have blades at your sides.” “You have heard of necro-knights?” “Of course…quite limited on the magical side.” Jinx places the medallion beneath her armor again and then moves her ringed finger back below the table. “True, but I’m not so limited. I have survived the quasi-negative planes, and in a few days my soul will enter the Plane of Death itself to withstand its assault or be devoured. If I survive, I shall be immune to it, but during this ordeal, I’ll need somewhere safe to stay while I regain my health. I need someone who I can trust, who has an understanding of what may be required, and I need access to spells above the ninth circle; they hold no challenge for me any longer.” At this Furcas stops eating. “In all my time I have only known three necro-knights who could wield spells of the ninth circle. And now a specimen such as yourself comes before me.” He begins cutting another morsel of meat from the tortured entree. “No challenge from the ninth circle? I thought the ninth was the extent of a necro-knight’s abilities.”
The ring and medallion allow some degree of oversight (scrying) on the part of Adramalech and his minions. Whether or not they can penetrate into the Necrology is unknown to Jinx, but as a matter of courtesy, she shows these items to Furcas to make him aware of the situation. 5 Jinx’s final true appearance includes a cobweb of black veins that run just beneath her skin. She wasn’t always this way, but as her powers have been growing, these veins, which distribute negative energy throughout her body, have been growing as well. Their effect of her beauty, however, is a choice of the beholder, and for a devil such as Furcas, these veins would in no way detract.
“I’m not a necro-knight, although I can train them. However, that is the closest comparison I can make. …I need training—training from a true master. Nethrys used to be my master, but I believe I am surpassing him and need a stronger master to guide me henceforth. Your knowledge, your assistance, your library; I need guidance from one such as yourself.” “Such things come with a price.” Jinx sits for a moment, pondering the numerous definitions of “price” that may be at work in Furcas’ mind. “It would appear that everyone I encounter has a toll to extract from me. From everyone else I have expected it, for their goals are removed from mine. …I was hoping that you would consider me an investment—a set price a burden to our ligament. You will be encumbered for a while, as well as those who will assist, but you will gain knowledge through this union. Students who desire mastery certainly obey their master. Is that not payment enough?” “Was that your arrangement with Nethrys?” “Nethrys came to me when I was ignorant. I never solicited him. I was in his plans since before my birth. His master instructed him to train me, so he did, never informing me of his impetus for doing so…making it appear as if he owed it to me for imprisoning my father. I was naive then, but do not think I haven’t paid him. He is alive now because he was my master…flesh and bone…free from torture on my command. I pay my debts, Furcas.” “Don’t we all.” Furcas looks down at the hobbit, the poor creature still delirious from having his flesh carved from his bone as a repast for two plain-speaking devils. “Well, my friend,” he murmurs, “when I invited you to what I promised would be a delicious meal, I was not lying, was I. But now, I think you have heard far too much.” A small ice pick suddenly appears in his hand, Furcas using it to crack open the hobbit’s skull. “Halfling brains are quite tasty when fresh,” he smiles, continuing to chop away as the hobbit’s eyes roll to the back of its head. He finally scoops out the entire organ, slicing it in half
before looking again toward Jinx. “Left or right hemisphere?” “I’d prefer the side you prefer least; anything more might escalate the price beyond my reach.” “Oh, was that really necessary? Well, since I’ve always prided myself on being a bit of a connoisseur of cranial cuisine, I will admit to you that when it comes to hobbit brains, I’m personally fonder of the right half. That’s the half that contains most of their imagination, you know. Here, try a bite, and see what you think.” Jinx accepts the offered fork, sniffing at it momentarily before accepting a small nibble of the hobbit’s medula oblongata. “Well?” Furcas grins. “Tastes like chicken.” “Actually, there may be an explanation for that. You see, halflings basically do two things in life. Either they’re eating or they’re thinking about eating. Hence, their cranial matter contains all the nuances of their limitless appetites: most extraordinary creatures. Proof, I think, that it really is the little things in life, or rather the little people,” he smiles, chomping down on some cerebral cortex. “Speaking of which,” he wipes his lip, “I’m to understand that you like short men.”6 “Size isn’t everything,” Jinx responds while abandoning eating utensils for her fingers. Slowly she inserts her nails into her dinner, cutting and lifting with them for a moment, playing with the candy-sized, bloody hunk, lifting it above her nose slightly as her mouth escalates to hungrily follow it, a drop of blood falling early and landing on her chin; then her tongue, a mind of its own, playfully guiding the candy to her mouth, sucking the blood from the pours before biting down, and of course, licking her fingers clean for the finale, her mouth still elevated while doing so, the drop of cerebral blood still balanced on her chin’s now
horizontal position. She does nothing with the drop on her chin, allowing it to run from her chin down her neck as she returns her gaze to his.7 “Duergars burrow deep into the mountains of many planes. They encounter much that I never would, making them an excellent source of information. They are loyal, unlike the drow. I have spilled much of my own blood with them. Is it wrong that I should be amicable toward them?” Furcas blinks for a moment, still somewhat transfixed by the spectacle of his dinner companion’s eating habits. “Actually, I was simply wondering what about them so enticed your favor.”8 Jinx pauses in mid-reach for her next bite, unable to fathom his wonder. “Is there no loyalty in hell? You implied that I had a strange way of showing my appreciation to my former master, and I demonstrated that I did appreciate him—before this conversation I may add. I am the Duergars’ ally. They are mine. I’ve retrieved a soul in Tartarus because of loyalty9; one awaits me on another plane, which I will attempt to retrieve as soon as feasible.” Jinx looks at Furcas askance. “If you wish to appraise my ability to pay my debts, perhaps you should interview those I have fought with, pre-knowledge of my affiliation with Lolth and those affiliated with her. My head spins with this crap. My mother, Nethrys, my grandmother…they never leveled with me. I’ve been torn apart…not physically…my loyalty, my desire. My own family would have sold me for their benefit; Nethrys admitted as much. My confusion derives from your talk of price, from your inability to understand my emotional ties and obligations. It is easy to hurt me: lie to me or withhold the truth; hurt those I
This is a reference to a minor sidetrack Jinx had prior to this scene where she found some old comrades, Duergar to be specific, being tortured in the bowels of Hell: proof positive that it really is a small multiverse. She rescued them, somewhat to the consternation of their captor, and now she has the reputation among those few who know of her as being a bit of a softy.
This description is well beyond that of my own meager abilities. It was supplied solely by Jinx’s player, just to give you an idea of the sort of writing of which he is capable. 8 “Sheesh,” Furcas thinks to himself, “I mention short men, and she goes off the deep end. I wonder if I have a diminution potion around here somewhere.” 9 Lyngar, a character I referenced in the 2nd paragraph of my submission to A&E #299. This was also the character that “Matt” was given to play in A&E #305.
care for; assume that I am so shallow that I only see you as a tool to enhance my power. It isn’t “favor” as you put it; it’s paying my debts. Setting a price confounds me, for I interpret it as a relationship that is solely based on payment—a relationship where ties are cut upon completion. Some debts are so great that the need to quantify them…” Jinx stops, trying to regain her composure while leaning back in the chair, perhaps no longer able to stomach what lies before her. “My dear girl,” Furcas reaches for her hand, “I’m afraid that I’ve gone and upset you. If it’s simply loyalty that you seek, then it’s loyalty you shall have, for I deal fairly with all those who deal fairly with me. Aside from hobbits, of course. They annoy me.”10 Jinx chuckles a bit at his comic relief, understanding the need to be more constrained on a first visit, yet unable to deny that Furcas may appreciate her goals more than anyone she’s met in hell. “Loyalty isn’t simple,” she says between chuckles. “My first meeting with a devil demanded me to show my ability with a blade, my second my ability to withstand the continuous abuse and humiliation of a once powerful shedevil11, my third with items to follow and observe me, my fourth to be a gatherer of information at the risk of my very existence, my fifth with one who wanted to seduce me, my sixth,” she says with a smile, “with opportunity…my seventh with an open hand,” she says with an optimistic yet not too overconfident tone. “I’m not sure what this means,” she says while leaning forward and taking his hand, “but it feels right.” Furcas makes a thin smile, “You must be wary of your feelings, my dear, for they can betray you more despicably than even your worst enemy.” “I assume you’ve been betrayed by someone near and dear and that a bit of you died as a result of the betrayal; if not, you’re throwing empty words at me, which I don’t see as your nature.” His thin smile manages to prevail, but his eyes, for a moment, recall memories better forgotten. “It would
Why does Furcas give in so easily? Or perhaps the question we should ask is: Was this his design all along? 11 See Jinx in Hell, Part 2, in A&E #318.
appear that one cannot say anything in your presence without the repercussions of depth,” he says as he lifts his hand, in it appearing a small dinner bell, which he rings before making it disappear. Within moments, Gordo, the pit fiend, is back. “My lord.” “Bring us a bottle of the Chateau Avernus Tabula Rasa.” “Age, my lord?” “Hmm... I would say this is a special occasion. Open one from my vampric collection. Also, bring my pipe, a pouch of sageling, and a vial of the powered magelrot.” “At once, my lord.” “Tabula Rasa?” Jinx queries after Gordo has left. “Is there an event being planned for this evening that you desire I forget?” “So suspicious….You do know how to smoke, don’t you?” Furcas says while smiling again now that Gordo has left. “I suppose, but it’s been awhile, and it was isolated to the mana I once needed to cast spells. Whatever it is that you have in mind…undoubtedly I’m a virgin to it.” “You really shouldn’t tease me,” he chides. “I might just consider testing the validity of such claims.” “That would distract too much from the focus of this visit, which had something to do with the acquisition of knowledge. I had requested to be your student in the field of necromancy and any dark arts associated with it. Do you grant or deny my request?” Jinx asks in a friendly tone. “My Dear,” Furcas replies, “do you really think I have nothing better to do but waste my time, my wine, not to mention my stash, on rejects?” “I suppose that depends on how much stash, wine and time you have, for I have an idea that I will be under your tutelage for months. One night isn’t much to spare, but months, if not nearly a year, requires commitment. Obviously, I will be committed. Will you?” “So suspicious!” Furcas laughs. “Of course, you are right to be. I count that entirely in your favor. If you weren’t bristling with doubt I should think you a fool. Nonetheless, trust will be earned…both ways, I think. Just as you sense it, so do I. Perhaps fate has led you here. Don’t laugh…stranger
things have been known to happen… from time to time. Ah…just in time with the wine. What took you, Gordo?” The pit fiend looks a bit out of breath, as though he just expedited his master’s request with the utmost haste. Suddenly, the bottle uncorks as though of its own volition, and Gordo is pouring them both glasses. “Sniff, but do not taste, my sweet,” Furcas advises. “First a bit of the magelrot to lower your defenses.” With that a bit of his stash floats up out of the pouch Gordo has brought, landing in the bowl of his pipe and self-igniting. Furcas brings it to his lips and takes a long draw, then passes it to Jinx, chasing the smoke with a sip of the wine. “That will be all, Gordo. Post guard. We are not to the disturbed.” “At once, my lord.” Jinx takes the pipe, realizing there are some things in life that can’t be under her control, yet hoping it won’t lead to her being under Furcas.12 “My first opportunity to trust you,” Jinx says just before she inhales about half of what Furcas did, then follows it with a sip of wine.
Political commentary in A&E:
Joshua writes, “The question is, is the conversation here benefited by the amount of political diatribe currently going on, or not. My bets are on ‘not’.” Patrick writes, “I disapprove of divisive political rhetoric in a gaming forum.” Myles writes, “I really don’t think the political discussion is adding anything of value to the APA.” And Brian Rogers writes, “This is a gaming APA, not a political one.” By my count, that’s four who currently purport to be against political discussion in A&E (although in Joshua’s case, it is only a question of the amount). As for those who are ambivalent or positive toward it, I counted only one voice from last issue. Jerry wrote, “A strong, honest voice that I disagree with is interesting.” However, from the amount of political commentary in their zines, I think I can also safely include Louis, Ty, and Spike in this list. By my count, that’s at least four
who are in favor, although I’d guess that there might be a few more on both sides of this fence. Speaking of fences, I like to sit on them and hence will abstain from voting, as I see both sides’ points of view. I would miss Louis’, Ty’s, and Spike’s political commentary if it were to suddenly disappear. However, I’d also be happy knowing that A&E has presumably fewer flame wars and presumably more gaming content. Perhaps the ideal situation would be for members to just take their politics to a blog and to post a web link at the end of their zines where we can read their non-gaming thoughts. Joshua suggested this idea back in A&E #357, and although I tried to cajole Spike into joining me in political discussions outside of A&E, he respectfully declined.13 At the risk of perseverating in my previous comments on this topic, I will just reiterate, for what I doubt will be the last time, that the problem of political discussions in A&E are not the discussions themselves but rather the anger that they bring out in certain participants. It may be due to the fact that I am a fence-sitter that I don’t often get angry but am instead rather interested to hear different points of view. If I held entrenched beliefs on most political topics, perhaps I too would be more likely to get angry upon reading the views of those who challenge the validity of my own political perspective. But because my mind seems to essentially be open to the views of other people14, I don’t feel this compunction. Like Patrick, I do find some political rants boring, but rarely do I find them idiotic, and almost never do I find them infuriating.15 The one thing I do find infuriating, however, is the arrogance that is displayed by those who hold such contempt for the views of others that they feel justified in hurling insults and venom. In my humble opinion, people who are given to verbal abuse are essentially bullies. In ages past, these personalities were not limited to verbal abuse. For many centuries, heretics were fashioned into human
In the physical sense…
See the final paragraph of Spike’s comment to me in A&E #365. 14 This seemingly positive trait is not without its downside. 15 See Pat’s comment to me in A&E #392.
torches, and the majority of society suffered so that a powerful few could feel secure in their positions of authority over the rest of us. They held us (our society) back for centuries on end. They prevented us from developing into whatever it is that we are meant to become. And so when I see such personalities behaving as they are wont to do, I cannot help but think ill of their self-indulgent forays into livid invective. Having said all of this, I also cannot help but agree that A&E is ostensibly a gaming APA. However, for whatever reasons, political discourse has long made its home here. Partly due to my own transgressions, Lee has cut it back with the two-page rule. If enough members wish for her to cut it back further, say to a one-page rule or perhaps to a rule that all off-topic politics be segmented to the end of one’s zine, then they should make this request. However, what I cannot abide is the singling out of individuals for their unique political perspectives and thereby insinuating that all the politics that’s in A&E is their fault. This just isn’t a valid argument. Politics persists in A&E from both sides of the political divide. It is plainly false to suggest otherwise, and therefore singling out one or two individuals based of their political perspectives is an exercise in hypocrisy. Indeed, it is doubly-hypocritical, for not only do those who have raged against political discourse sometimes cherry-pick those whom they rage against, but also have these individuals themselves been known to include politics in their zines whenever it suits them. This, it seems to me, is rather like the pot calling the kettle black. Granted, while nearly everyone includes politics in their zines to some degree, not everyone includes politics to the same degree. This, as far as I can tell, is the core of Joshua’s argument: that a little bit is okay, but that too much is simply too much. The follow-up question, of course, is how much is too much? Lee has spoken to this in neutral, unambiguous terms: two pages is the limit. Hence, if Joshua or anyone else wants that rule somehow modified, I believe that they should address their comments in this regard to Lee herself and not to any other fellow member who is observing
the two-page limit as it is currently written. Regardless of the outcome, however, regardless of whether Lee changes the two-page rule to a zero-page rule or whether she loosens it to a five-page rule, I won’t be discussing politics in A&E. The reason for this should be plain. It is because to discuss politics in A&E only poisons the atmosphere. There are too many among us with personalities ill-suited to exploring our philosophical differences. Pointless animosities are generated and the stated purpose for this APA, to discuss RPGs, is ultimately undermined. However, it is not politics that victimizes us; no, it is the immaturity16 of some of our members that victimizes us, because if we could discuss politics freely and openly, without the omnipresent threat of angry comments from those who seek to silence us, just imagine how we could develop into better versions of ourselves. I think back to some of the political comments that I wrote in A&E back when I was writing politics in A&E, and there are certainly statements that I would take back. There are things that I said that were ill-considered, to say the least. Some of these things I was called on, and others were largely ignored, but the very fact that I had the opportunity to write them for an audience, putting them on paper, made me think about things in a more serious and detailed way that I would otherwise have had cause to do. And that helped. It helped me to think through my point of view. It helped me to reshape my perspective. In short, it helped me to grow, not merely in that moment but even much later, as I had cause to recall what I had written and to rethink it, review it, and reconsider it in the light of new experiences and new knowledge. But I can’t do that in A&E, not anymore, because I know what the result will be. Somebody will get offended, and then the anger will roll out, and quite honestly, it’s just not worth it to me. It’s not worth dealing with the verbal abuse.
I wracked my so-called brain trying to think of a softer noun, but instead I could only come up with harsher ones: spite, malevolence, viciousness, volatility. If I am seeing this wrongly, then please correct me.
I admire people like Louis and Ty who speak from largely unpopular perspectives and, as a result, get asked to be quiet in various ways. I envy them their serenity in the face of a determinedly close-minded audience that can easily ignore their statements but which nevertheless cannot help but read and reply. This must be the reason that Spike favors putting his politics in A&E rather than moving it to the web…because at least here he knows that people will read what he thinks, and whether they agree or disagree, they will reply. Spike’s unstated advantage, of course, is that he writes from a largely liberal perspective, and while there are both liberals and conservatives present, I have never witnessed anyone directly asking him to be quiet in the manner that I’ve witnessed some members asking Ty or Louis to be quiet in just the past few issues. What exactly this means I’ll leave as an exercise for the reader. As for myself, however, I wouldn’t mind Lee dropping it to a zero-page rule if that is her whim, not because I’m in favor of censorship but rather because A&E has proven itself, at least to me, to be inherently unsuited to the task of hosting free and unfettered discussions on matters of politics. It’s a shame…it truly is, but it’s a conclusion that I find tragically inescapable. Having said that, perhaps it is for the best that political discourse should be completely abandoned. Certainly, I would miss it. I’ve stated more than once that Ty’s political commentary is the part of A&E that I read first, and I also very much enjoy reading Louis’ and Spike’s opinions as well as those of others. Exchanging political views with Spike, even though we disagreed more often than not, was a joy. He’s always polite, and he always has something intelligent to say. Every time he writes, he makes me think. But it’s not what A&E is ostensibly all about. It’s not our focus, and by it being here, it does detract from our focus for reasons that are not the fault of Spike or Louis or Ty. I wish I could think of something more positive to say, but that’s my opinion for what little it’s worth.