A slightly modified version of the "Dune" piece, with apologies to Frank Herbert. Apologies to anyone who reads it are probably also in order.

I must not roll skulls.
Skulls are the team-killer.
Skulls are the little-death that brings on real death.
I will use loaded dice.
I will permit them to roll over and over.
And when skulls have gone past I will use my secret device to stop the dice on pow.
Where my opponent stood there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.


And just because I can, a limerick ode to GFI. (Yes, it's been rolling a lot of 1s for me again)

There once was a Norseman--a Swede,
Who quite enjoyed runs and stampedes,
He tripped on the ground,
Spun entirely around,
From the floor he his team did impede.

Forgive me for the strained metre on the last, it was the best I could do.