[ WP ] A war begins as a bar fight , becomes a regional war , expands to become a world war , and is concluded in the same bar it started in .

``... And now it begins!'' 
 
 The large brutish man with bulging biceps stood hunched over the small table, the man of similar size on the other end. On said table was the most anticipated game in the world. The legendary international tournament of Choss, the board game that shocked the world. Kids played it with their parents, elderly played it in their drug-induced semi-comatose states. 
 
 So when the top player from both Russia and America decided to end the debate about who was the international champion of Choss... Well, here they are. 
 
 In a dirty, cramped bar. And they would n't have it any other way. 
 
 `` Jackson moves his Barbarian through the cover and into stealth. Bold, it'll let him flank Vlad... What is Vlad doing? The madman, he's moved his Daemon into direct fire... No.'' 
 
 The room was quiet. Jackson clenched his fist, his face going red. Vlad's face was painted with a sadistic smirk. 
 
 He had won the game. 
 
 `` Vlad... It's over ladies and gentlemen. All across the world, it's been streamed, the proof is there... Vlad's Daemon blinked through Jackson's support line, and took down the injured President.'' 
 
 `` I demand a rematch.'' The powerful voice of Jackson uttered gruffly. 
 
 `` No rematch, friend. I-'' Vlad spoke smugly, his accent coming across thickly as he leant back in his creaking wooden chair. 
 
 `` I am not your friend. There will be a rematch.'' 
 
 `` I win. Face it.'' 
 
 Silence. Tension filled the room like smoke, choking everyone slowly into the red fog of anger. `` Gentlemen, let's calm down...'' 
 
 `` I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!'' 
 
 Jackson shot out of his chair, flipping the table and sending the board game scattered across the floor. Vlad quickly got up, and then nobody could really tell who threw the first punch. All we knew then was... 
 
 World War Three had begun. The bar fight heavily injured both players, and even the diplomatics of both countries could not stop the patriotic armies and people to rally underneath the banners of Jackson and Vlad. They say that on June 11th, the Pacific turned red. Alaska's snow was bleached with blood, Siberia's summer snows melting under the onslaught of Napalm. 
 
 Yet the rest of the world did not stand idle whilst the superpowers pushed and shoved for dominance for the International Choss Champion. The United Kingdom demanded a rematch and joined America, China wanted Russia to win... 
 
... 
 
... 
 
 And twenty bloody years later, the world has bled. Choss has been banned, and nearly every professional player is dead. 
 
 Nearly. Except from Vlad and Jackson, who sit hunched over the table with the broken leg, on their new chairs, with a new referee. 
 
 `` Can you not accept the truth? It is recorded. The world has died and bled because of you. The war will end today, with my victory. Now I will get to win again, twice champion.'' 
 
 `` No. Now it will end.'' Jackson moved his Infantry in front of the President. Not going to make that mistake again. 
 
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