Disclaimer: I do not own Pong. Pong belong to Atari. I also do not own The Iliad. The Iliad... well, I don't know who it belongs to, but it was written by Homer.

This was originally an English project of mine... as we finished the unit on The Iliad, we had to write a parody of it... sort of. Actually, we had to write a parody of an epic poem featuring a conflict... so I figured, "Hell, I'll write about Pong! This should be interesting!" My intent was to make if funny... but I sorta failed at that. Well, enjoy the epic poem of Pong! Oh yeah, if you've read The Odyssey or The Iliad, then you'd probably understand the style of this a little more.

Book I: Taken To Epic Proportions

Oh great gods of Atari, please aid me in telling the tale of
The two Caucasian warriors, locked in a fateful battle;
A mêlée with a fearful weapon: the crisp ashen orb.
The blessed individual who triumphs this fight
Will advance forward in this dreadful war,
This conflict that is caused by that one terrible orb.

In his dark surroundings, the pale-skinned Gauche, on the left side of the field,
Detected the crisp ashen orb and batted it with his bludgeon,
As instinctively as the quiet frog in the damp swamp,
Quickly swatting his wet tongue at the buzzing sound of his prey, the maddening fly.
Now the pasty Droite on the right noted the moves of his pale-skinned opponent,
And tried to return the crisp ashen orb in a similar fashion,
Smacking it back with his silver club.

This battle between the ones on the right and left had been going on for hours.
For all of this time, the fight had been in the same fashion,
Of batting the orb back and forth between one another,
Just as the lively children on the streets,
Playfully tossing a ball back and forth, in some sort of game fashion.
Though this time, the two warriors had no intention of sporting.

Legend has it that the crisp ashen orb holds great destructive power,
Immediately eliminating the one who loses control of it.
In response to this, authorities have locked this caustic orb away,
Hoping that nobody would lay his hands on it.
On one overcast day about ten years ago, though,
The crisp ashen orb was released, causing tremendous warfare.

This crisp ashen orb now lay in the hands of the pale-skinned Gauche and the pasty Droite,
The two Caucasian warriors still locked in combat over their fates.
The pasty Droite glared intently at his opponent in frustration,
Like one glares at a friend when he has lost in a mere board game,
Yet has worked so hard in order to obtain victory.
As the pasty Droite knocked the orb to his opponent,
The pale-skinned Gauche similarly sent it back, just as he has continued to do so for quite sometime.

Then, the pasty Droite spoke as he continued to fight.
"It is impossible for your victory, o godlike Gauche,
As the gods have been on my side all of this time,
And I have not seen any indication of their blessings being given to you.
The crisp ashen orb will be the death of you and your comrades,
As it is clear that I have the upper hand in this encounter.
Your fatality will be a quick one though,
For the reason that the orb's powers act swiftly."

As the pale-skinned Gauche continued to battle, he responded to Droite.
"O Droite of the fair seas, you have been a formidable opponent.
Here we have been combating for hours over our mere lives,
All because of a small orb.
It does not make clear sense to anyone
Why such a simple thing can cause so much destruction,
But if it is my fate to die, I must simply laugh."

The mere quote of pale-skinned Gauche caught him off-guard ever so slightly,
Making pasty Droite beat the orb to his side of the dark field,
Just as that of a baseball player bats a powerful homerun,
Astonishing everyone else on his field, making it known that victory is near.
Gauche, being wrapped in his emotions, was not swift enough
To send the orb back, and so he lost control of it.
In result, the pale-skinned Gauche died instantly,
Without a word of parting or a simple farewell.

In a moment as quick as when one blinks their eye,
Quite instinctively as to keep their eyes from gradually drying out,
The world of the warriors blacked out, and faded to another land.
The gray-haired Joseph of the documentation devices smiled in success,
While his rival, the patronizing Larry frowned in loss,
Dropping his complicated electronic controlling device on the hard floor.

The gray-haired Joseph looked at his rival and spoke arrogantly.
"I have triumphed over you, Larry of the athletics.
I even admit that our match could have been an even one,
But I am still the victor, and you have gained nothing.
My reputation has grown now because of this success,
Yet yours has been significantly lowered.
You must know now that you can never beat me,
As the gods of Atari are my allies."

The patronizing Larry of the athletics then stared his rival in the eye and spoke.
"You fool, Joseph of the documentation devices,
You do not seem to realize the simplicity of our match.
You view our combat as such that
When two foolish men gage in a tedious battle,
That over which the prize is a dark-haired young lady,
A rare and unattainable girl who is skilled in the art of dancing.
But our conflict, you see, was nothing more than a game of Pong."

OK, and now it's over! Some things you may be confused about: Even though it says "Book I" that does not mean that there is another chapter or a sequel. I did write another chapter, but it has absolutely nothing to do with Pong, so I will not post it. Gauche is French for "left", so that's the name i gave to the left dude... and droite is French for "right", so that's the name of the right dude. Joseph and Larry are twopeople that I just happen to know... but I don't like either of them. And for some reason, I get great amusement out of the thought of them fighting each other. Joseph of the documentation devices... that just means that he's a video recording freak. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my crappy English project!