In review

Flinch and the rest of the Di-Gata universe belong to Greg Collison and Nirvana Entertainment. The lyrics are from the Irish folk song "O'er the way".

Ladies and Gentlemen, and all you other figments of my drunken imagination – welcome, welcome to my first – and probably last – review of the annual achievements of the order of Infinis, done by me, the very low and humble Flinch, the new head of the new – and improved (ha! ha!) order of Infinis!

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.

So, let us proceed in the traditional manner. First, there was Malco, my very own partner, forced onto me (ha! ha!) by my very own superiors, Brackus and Nazmul. They did not trust me on my own, megalomaniacs that they were. That is genius for you.

Now, what can I say about Malco? He was a good partner in his fashion – big, strong, and perfect to hide behind, to escape all the lumps that those meddling kids threw at us. He never spoke, and I always doubted that he actually used his head as anything other than an eating orifice, but he had that gut instinct and rudimentary common sense that almost made him seem as an ordinary, albeit extra large, human.

What? Oh, (ha! ha!) I forgot! The ladies; that's right, the ladies loved Malco, the big oaf was big in every part of his body; the ladies considered him manly, and Malco, well, big departed Malco loved the ladies, even if they weren't human but some of Lord Nazmul's more unusual agents. And Malco loved pot. Oh yes, Malco loved getting his highs after we got our lows from those meddling kids by smoking his trusty bong and sharpening his trusty fists on (ha! ha!) you guessed it – me!

But boy, how will I miss Malco! I mean, so what that he considered me lower than him in the power chain, and so what if he pushed me around whenever he needed his ego to be soothed, and so what if he never appreciated my genius? Malco did all right in the end, serving as a host body for Lord Nazmul – I cannot imagine a more fitting end for the giant dunce, after all, he never really used his body for anything other than destruction, which made him into something not quite human. On the other hand, maybe he was not quite human to begin with – if he was, we would be swimming in his kids by now, but in reality, there are not any. Good for us, the last thing we want – by "we", I mean the order of Infinis – are more of Malco; as a single individual, he was bad and useless enough. Oh sure, he was very impressive on a parade, and he was good in beating up people, but guess what – when it came to the Di-Gata defenders, those meddling kids, then big-strong-intimidating-powerful Malco was as useless as the little brilliant old me, but did Brackus and Lord Nazmul crack down on him as they did on me? Of course not, Malco was always innocent of whatever would go astray, of course he was! And Malco was so obedient, why if Brackus or Lord Nazmul would throw a stick and tell him to fetch it, he would do so, drooling all the way! Malco had no intelligence as a human, but his gut instincts would steer him no wrong… right to the point where Lord Nazmul overrode and destroyed his rudimentary spirit and made himself at home in Malco's buff body! That settled his hash, you can believe it!

Therefore, the order of Infinis remembers you, Malco, for one last time. You never amounted much to anything, just some destroyed property and lives, something that any Di-Gata Guardian, like my own Dreadcrow! Moreover, Dreadcrow does not demand in being paid in anything! (ha! ha!) And so, Malco has created nothing, contributed nothing, sired nothing (well, no one, if you want to split hairs), has left nothing behind him – in short, has left no trace that he even existed, save in our minds; so, as we pour our libations in Malco's memory we leave him behind us (save in the order's archives, ha-ha), and consign him to the oblivion in this world, which the big oaf so richly deserved.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.

Next on our agenda list is Brackus. No, I know, that this should be the honorary Lord Brackus, but as the new head of the order of Infinis now (ha! ha!) I declare that title null and void, because frankly, when looking over the deceased's actions, one comes to the realization that if Brackus was a Lord, then so can anyone else. Why? Let me show you why.

The old order of Infinis actually ran a very compact and tight squad. Lord Nazmul was the great wizard of Yan; I was his brilliant scientist assistant; Malco the muscle that was given to reinforce me and my guardian; and Brackus, was, well, everything else, starting with the order's press secretary and ending with the order's administrator. What is so noble about that, I ask you? But no, the press secretary of the order must be someone important, and so Brackus was made into Lord Brackus, got all those ribbons, medals, crosses, and whatnot to illustrate his lordly mug, and so one. Since Lord Nazmul as the great wizard of Yan that he was never cared about such things, Brackus got the idea that he was the next important member of the order, and in the end, in his megalomania, he dared to challenge Lord Nazmul himself! Naturally, he got introduced to the Spirits of Dako, and let me testify as a first-hand witness, it was not a pleasant way to go – but one that Brackus had obviously earned!

Oh, thank you honorable members of the order for reminding me (ha! ha!) that this is a solemn review, a post-storm gathering of the order, time to remember and libate the deceased, no matter how poorly they acted when alive. Speaking of life – no matter how arrogant and obtuse Brackus did behave in life, he was still head and shoulders over Malco, metaphorically speaking. Firstly, Brackus did do his job, and compared to Malco's, it was so much more complex – he ran the day-to-day administrative duties of our order, and let me point out that whoever his replacement will be, he'll… well, actually, he'll have a much easier job, since due to Brackus' treachery, the order has lost quite a large fraction of its belongings and estates. Great job there Brackus, you really know how to earn post-mortem compliments. Maybe we should give your job back to Doku now (ha! ha!), if we can find him or anything like that (ho! ho!).

Hmmm… Ladies, Gentlemen, and all you other figments of my drunken imagination, is there anything else I should speak about Brackus before giving him his libation and leaving him behind? Oh yes, his son. Young Adam, who has joined the Defenders by now. Way to go, you dumb kids! The lad's father has betrayed the Defenders to work for Nazmul, who used to be a defender too… and now, lo and behold, Adam is a Defender himself. Hopefully, I won't be around for the times when he'll grow up, find his own Nazmul, and help to destroy this generation of the Defenders… but given my luck, I'll probably be.

Anyways, the Order of Infinis remembers you, Brackus, for your wretched deeds. You betrayed the Defenders for Nazmul, you betrayed Nazmul for yourself, and your son betrayed you for the Defenders. The circle of treachery has come full cycle, and mayhaps has started again. Therefore, this is your legacy, Brackus – the ruins of the once-mighty Order of Infinis, and a son, who has inherited your treacherous blood; so, as we pour our libations in Brackus' memory we leave him behind us, and consign him to the oblivion in this world, which he so rightfully earned through his actions.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.

And the last, but certainly not least but the greatest, is the founder of our – ha-ha – Order, Lord Nazmul. Now there was a man worthy to be served! The greatest wizard of Yan in our day and age, he was brought low by a group of meddling kids cashing in on the treachery within the order itself! Poor Lordship… and yet, it was not too unexpected, at least in my experienced eye. Lord Nazmul was a great wizard and a lord, so it was natural that he had no or little experience in the mundane matters of administration and management, which left him vulnerable to the treachery from within. I, of course, warned him repeatedly, but sadly, this great wizard thought that he could handle it by himself. He was right, of course, but sadly, that gave those meddling kids an opening through which to strike.

Now, what else can I say about the great Nazmul? Truly, words fail me, or maybe it is just all this booze (ha! ha!). The man made the order single-handedly; his guardian was the great Megalith; he wielded incredible power, so why didn't he listen to me?! I revealed Brackus' plans to him repeatedly; I brought him the stone of king Magnun, the last of the great Bakorian kings; I was helped with the charlatan Leizel's – oops, I begin to ramble, ha-ha. Everybody here knows that I was loyal to Nazmul, not Brackus, right?

Whew! Ladies, and gentlemen, and other figments of my imagination. It seems that all this libating and mourning has finally gotten to my head – my tongue is starting to stutter, I am getting sleepy! Ergo, I daresay that I am going to cut close my last eulogy to the last name of on our list, that is Lord Nazmul, and get on to the libation itself.

Lord Nazmul (hic)! As we – by "we", I mean the order of Infinis, ha-ha – pour our libations in your memory we leave you behind us, and consign him to the oblivion in this world, for he had left nothing behind him, nothing whatsoever that wasn't destroyed by those meddling Di-Gata Defenders – his Order (ha-ha-hic), his Guardian the Megalith, his body, both old and new, and even himself and his new home, the Nova Stone. Good-bye, Lord Nazmul, good-bye. You probably deserve a better eulogy than this, but what the Hell? I am free, I am drunk, and I am free! Good luck to your in your after life, Lord Nazmul, and a heartfelt good riddance to you! (Hic!)

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.