EPINIONUS CANIS FELLATRIX!
by CurtisEdmonds on Oct. 26, 2001

Pros: Aliquando et insanire iucundum est.

Cons: Ut sementem feceris ita metes.

The Bottom Line: What we do in life echoes in eternity. Oh, and Epinions blows dog.

Recommended: Yes

Once upon a time, in the far-off land of Californium, there was a great battle that was fought in the Valley of Silicon. The warriors who fought in that battle emerged with wealth and glory, and opportunity. And it happened that to some of the warriors -- members of the Yahoo tribe -- entered a new, empty land where they could rule.

The warriors agreed that the first thing they would do would be to build an arena. The arena would be a place, they decided, where people could come and watch gladiators battle, and make decisions about purchasing armor and swords and tridents.

So they built the arena, and sent out the word to villages and farms and rural estates that there was an opportunity for gladiators. The curious and hopeful left their plows and wandered into the newly-built arena.

"We have brought you here," the warriors said, "to fight, and to entertain others with your fighting. However, we will not ask you to fight to the death, as other rulers do. We instead ask you to participate in battles that are at a place and time of your choosing, fought with whatever weapons you will. We will pay you handsomely for each battle you fight. And you will have the opportunity to earn honor and glory."

The Gladiators heard this, and it sounded good to them. They donned their armor and helmets, and began to fight, and to make a most unholy racket in doing so. This attracted a huge audience and was very popular. The gladiators fought with spirit and verve, and succeeded in entertaining the crowds. The Gladiators even started clubs and organized special fighting events to better promote their fighting ability.

Soon, the best of the Gladiators emerged, and the warriors gathered all the Gladiators around. "We have been watching the battles," the warriors said, "and we honor the victors." And they selected the best of the Gladiators and placed wreaths of laurel on their heads. "Today, we give you the name of Consigliere, because you have advised the audience on fighting techniques and armor selection." The Consiglieres beamed with pride.

One day, the Gladiators looked up in the box of the arena where the warriors usually sat, and noticed that it was empty. It was whispered that the warriors were meeting with the venture capitalists, but no one knew for sure. Finally, a trumpet blast echoed above the arena, and all the Gladiators stopped their fighting to look at the box. There was one figure there, standing alone.

A voice rang out, "All hail Emperor Niravus Epinionus!"

The new Emperor stepped up to an elevated platform and addressed the Gladiators. "I am your new emperor!" Some of the Gladiators cheered, others were silent, wondering what the Emperor had to say.

"Starting tomorrow, all paychecks for Gladiators will be cut; you will only recieve one minim per fight." There were groans at this, but the Emperor waved his hand, calling for silence. "However, I have hired a great wizard named Algorithmus, who will calculate your salary on a monthly basis."

"That is all."

The Gladiators heard this, and wondered at what it meant, but no one would ever answer their questions. Some Gladiators and Consiglieres even doubted that the great wizard Algorithmus even existed. However, the next month, all the Gladiators received their pay, so all was well.

One day, the Gladiators returned to their locker room after a long day of fighting. Many of the Consiglieres among the Gladiators went to get the laurel wreaths out of their lockers, but couldn't find them. At the same time, other Gladiators -- not so well-known or honored, including some Gladiators who swiped weapons from others -- were seen wearing laurel leaves. "What happened?" the Consiglieres asked.

The Consiglieres took their case to the Emperor. "It is simple," he said. "The wizard Algorithmus will now give out the wreaths of laurel from now on. If you fight harder next month, you may get them back."

"But the wizard Algorithmus has never seen us fight," said one of the wiser Consiglieres, Markhamus Aurelius. "Surely he is in no position to deny us our wreaths."

"My decision is final," the Emperor said. "This interview is over."

"No, it isn't," said Markhamus Aurelius. "The laurel wreaths were the symbol of honor and respect. Taking away those symbols is a threat to all we fight for."

"I am saddened that you would respond to my decision with a personal attack," the Emperor said. "To punish the insolence of the Consiglieres, the arena will be closed for two weeks." And he walked away, and the arena was closed.

When the Gladiators returned, there was a great banner over the field that said, "Arena 2.0". They walked inside and were horrified. The newly remodeled arena was ugly and the plaster was already cracking. Some of the weapons were missing, and others were rusty. The floor of the arena was marred with massive craters.

Worse, there was a collection of junk in the center of the arena. There was a massive pile of socks, and a stack of garden hoes. "We're supposed to fight with those?" the Gladiators asked. One of the bravest Gladiators, Sordidicus Maximus, grabbed a set of action figures and began playing with them, using them to ridicule the Emperor. "Look at me!" he said. "I'm Emperor Niravus Epinionus!" All the Gladiators shrieked with laughter until they couldn't stand up.

Then they noticed that the "Arena 2.0" banner had blown away, and words were carved into the arena. "Ubi dolor para incommoditaso," it said. "What does that mean?" the Gladiators who didn't know Latin asked.

"We apologize for the inconvenience," was the reply.

That became the motto of the arena; and fewer places have had a more appropriate motto. The new arena had nothing but inconveniences. It was closed at inopportune times. There was no hot water in the Gladiatoral showers. The minims from the Emperor slowed to a trickle. "Something must be done," all the Gladiators said, but nobody could agree as to what would be done. Many Gladiators left, and those that stayed fought less, or less well. Every day, there was one or two less Gladiators around.

Finally, as the Gladiators gathered in the arena one more time, a trumpet blast shook the air. "The great Emperor Niravus Epinionus speaks!" the herald cried.

"As of today," the Emperor said, "none of you is making any more minims at this arena for fighting." Some of the Gladiators cried out, but others were silent; they had feared this for a long time.

"The only way any of you will get paid for fighting is if it is approved by the wizard Algorithmus," said the Emperor, and the faces of the Gladiators fell. The wizard was on vacation in Europe, they had heard, and the minims he gave were paltry at best. No one had ever seen his face.

"Why then should we stay?" The voice of Markhamus Aurelius rose from the crowd. "There are other arenas. Why should we not all leave?" The other Gladiators murmured in approval. "What we do in life," Markhamus Aurelius said, "echoes in eternity. We cannot remain here without losing our honor."

"We apologize for the inconvenience," the Emperor said, fear showing on his face.

"We've heard that before," growling voices said. The Gladiators hissed and booed the Emperor.

"Please, my friends," the Emperor said. "Please work with us to make this arena great. Please stay and help the audience make buying decisions."

"NO!" the Gladiators yelled, and marched towards the locker room door, ready to exit the arena forever. However, the door was barred. "Move away from the door!" the Gladiators yelled.

The Emperor's face went red, and he screamed at the Gladiators. "No one may leave!" he said, and waved a document at the crowd. "All of you must stay. You are not free to go. If you leave, you may not take your weapons, or your trophies, or your minums, or your fame and glory. All your base are belong to us!"

"What did he just say?" one of the Gladiators asked.

"He said we're slaves, that our armor and weapons belong to him," was the answer.

"You can't do that!" another Gladiator cried. "Maybe there's no peace in this world, for us or for anyone else, I don't know. But I do know that, as long as we live, we must remain true to ourselves. We earned our weapons and our armor, and you can't take them from us, you weasel."

"I am saddened by these personal attacks," the Emperor said, "but my decree is final. I should kill all of you, but I will not. Am I not merciful? AM I NOT MERCIFUL?"

Throughout all of this, the great Gladiator Sordidicus Maximus had been standing quietly in the center of the arena. He suddenly let out a great cry of anguish. Then he pointed his finger at the Emperor and screamed:

"EPINIONUS CANIS FELLATRIX!"

"What did he just say?" one of the Gladiators asked.

"He said, Epinions blows dog."

"Oh."

The Emperor's face went pale. The call went out again, "EPINIONUS CANIS FELLATRIX!" It became a chant, and echoed through the arena. "EPINIONUS CANIS FELLATRIX!!!" And the Gladiators rioted, tearing down the flimsy walls of the arena. And Sordidus Maximus led them out of the arena, and the Gladiators became a huge army.

The Emperor raised his own army, and challenged Sordidicus Maximus and his army. He told the Gladiators, "If Sordidicus Maximus surrenders, I will not slaughter your puny weak army."

Sordicus stood up and said, "I am Sordidicus Maximus, Commander of the Action Figures, loyal servant to the true Emperor. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next."

But he did not stand alone. Another Gladiator got to his feet and said, "No! I am Sordidicus Maximus!" He was followed by another, and another. "I am Sordidicus." "I am Sordidicus." "I am Sordidicus." Soon, the entire army was on its feet, claiming to be Sordidicus Maximus.

The Emperor screamed in rage, and went back to the back of the lines. The Emperor's army stood silently, quaking in their boots hearing the fierce war cry of the Gladiators, "EPINIONUS CANIS FELLATRIX!"

The great Gladiator generals formed their armies into columns. The real Sordidicus Maximus went to the head of his army and gave them one last command.

"On my signal, unleash hell."

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For a time in October 2001, you could have read this review on http://www.epinions.com . It has been deleted from that site, but other writing by the author is still available there at http://www.epinions.com/user-curtisedmonds .

CurtisEdmonds' movie reviews are on this site.