The New Sudoku Players' Forum

[mikejapan]

That's a pity. I liked the "ambivalent" rhyme.

[Mike Barker]

Since its been awfully quite here's a shot:

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

[Mike Barker]

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

[mikejapan]

Way to go Mike!
I've been busy recently but I'll contribute shortly.

[mikejapan]

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

"Crossover the road with caution"

[/quote]

[mikejapan]

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

"A magic cell'll save us from harm".

[/quote]

[emm]

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

"Crossover the road with caution
A diagonal route may be best

[emm]

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

"A magic cell'll save us from harm."
(Backtracking - how did he transform them?)

[mikejapan]

Transform what?
As far as I know, they were being bombarded with rockets before it went off on a tangent about cross-dressing PMs with manly breasts.

[Mike Barker]

As I understand the story up until now, there was this big Sudoku convention.

Of the geeks at the Killer Convention,
A number wore top hats and tails.
Gold cuff-links caught the media's attention
Seeing most were not worn by the males.

They gave each one a set of glass trinkets
But the GEM chain caused many travails,
‘Cos some of the group said they think it’s
A walkthrough, others hoisted their sails.

Djape gave the opening address.
He talked about trial and error,
A technique he's employed, he'll confess,
When a good solving path isn’t clearer.

At the end of his speech, t'was a scramble
To point out the claim he had made,
That to use Nishio was a gamble,
Shaolin monk he should have stayed.

New Kids On The Block sang an intro
But one of them messed up a line
The rest of them covered for him, though
They initially called him a swine.

The Band sang one last Big Number
For the squirmbags from cell block nine.
Rows of geeks all started to rumba
And got plonked on the leftover wine.

For lunch there was free beer and seafood
The franken fish was simply scrumptious.
But the jelly was off and they all spewed
On the carpeted floor, blobs of crumbed fish.

Mark and Ariadne were running against each other for president. Mark doesn't play fair and tries to blow Ariadne up.

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

When this doesn't work he first tries to attract her with his manly prowess and intellectual acumen, but finally admits that he will do anything to become president:

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

He next tries to soil her reputation by spreading lies about her regarding their exchange on the previous night:

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

After they are attacked by a sub, he realizes that rather than competitors they need to work together and brings in the PM who recognizes that they really are two of a kind:

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent."
Bilocal we see them transform.

Ariadne and Mark together? Who would have thought, but who fired the rocket and where's the bug guy? More importantly what's for dinner at the convention? I can't wait to find out! [Edit: I felt guilty about changing the last line so changed it back]

"Crossover the road with caution
A diagonal route may be best

"A magic cell'll save us from harm."
(Backtracking - how did he transform them?)

[MCC]

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

"Crossover the road with caution
A diagonal route may be best.
Travel in(g) pairs for ablution

[MCC]

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

"A magic cell'll save us from harm."
(Backtracking - how did he transform them?)
With a group hug and oodles of charm

[emm]

Thanks to Mike B for making some sense of the never-ending story … I think. So what is for dinner then?

Mark, a candidate for President, who
Hatched a plot to knock off his opponent
Using one cluster bomb, maybe two,
To create a more opportune moment.

He fixed a long fuse to the table
To eliminate his foe was the plan.
The locked pair he thought would be able
To constrain that blockhead with elan.

With deadly intentions in mind,
Implications of which may seem valid,
He lay on the floor (he reclined)
Digit poised to depress, face quite palid.

He was locked in a chain of destruction,
But he blocked the fear from his brain,
And made a quick box line reduction
By brute force the boxed bomb to constrain.

But an explosion blasted the rows
And columns 'to jigsaw size pieces.
When Jellyfish fired in salvoes,
They made the floor as slippy as grease is.

To walkthrough the mess was a mission,
But his Colt 45 ruled the day.
He’d stacked boxes of live ammunition
A bivalue universal grave for his prey.

In the band of his boxers he'd hidden
A gun, or just pleased to see me?
“Are you hinting,” she said, “Or just kiddin’?
"My pinned digit ? It's as plain as can be."

”Changing subject,” he said. “Trebor's tables,
Lines and columns like Towers of Babels,
(Those old symbols from biblical fables)
Numbered not in "Anne of Green Gables."

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,
Please throw me a bone, or bit
Of seafood, like the fin of a trout,
Or sashimi, I beg, I implore it."

"Anything! Scrambled eggs, bacon
Or a box of big bugs’ broken wings."
"The One Rule I've never forsaken
Is constraints aren't for Lords of the Rings."

"Crossover the road with caution
A diagonal route may be best.
Travel in(g) pairs for ablution
And don't leave the house while undressed."

[emm]

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

"A magic cell'll save us from harm."
(Backtracking a bit to inform them)
With a group hug and oodles of charm
And a big double brandy to warm them.

Edited without guilt.

[mikejapan]

[quote="emm"]

The girls who all wore simple colours,
Mini-skirts, mini-cols, mini-cuffs,
Claiming those audacious rumours
Were just lies spread by sad, single toughs.

Ariadne resented the inference
That she'd interacted last night.
“These marks aren't bad Bingo’s big imprints,
They’re the site of a big bed bug’s bite!”

"My unit's infested with termites!
Elimination's called for, but how?
They've got pincers! Don't turn off the BUG lites!
See that monster! The size of a cow!"

"I'm your man!" came a voice from the backdoor
"I am the law! Of leftovers? None!"
I’ll fix these big BUGs you’ve got trapped, or
By your thread I will chain up each one!

So the candidates, Ariadne and Mark
A locked pair? who knows? Just wait and see.
Tried and erred on the floor in the dark.
He claimed innie. "No, outie!", cried she.

"I'd call that a conflict of interest,"
She blushed, with advanced colouring,
And fished out her patterned print dress.
"A remote pair we'll stay. Just a fling!"

Their eyes were locked, set in their sockets,
Like the 3D Medusa of legend.
Then a hidden sub set off some rockets
Guess our number's up - Is it the end?

"Equivalence!" Mark states, "that's the answer.
We'll write to the PM at once.
This cluster of gems should entrance her."
"She's a he. You're in error! You dunce!"

"What, bivalue? I’d never have guessed,
For he seems so effeminate and
What’s that aligned pair on her chest
And why the girlie headband?"

"They're mathematically equivalent
Of perfect canonical form,
Buddies in no way ambivalent.
Bilocal we see them transform.

"A magic cell'll save us from harm."
(Backtracking a bit to inform them)
With a group hug and oodles of charm
And a big double brandy to warm them.


A deadly pattern of blasts rocked the building