WOTC Proudly Displays Mark Rosewater’s ‘Mood Swings’ on Office Fridge

RENTON, WA – “Oh, that’s what you’re here about,” says Wizards President John Hight, as The Herald sits down with him to ask about the upcoming release of Mark Rosewater’s opus Mood Swings. “Yeah… we’re all very proud of… Mark? And his new uh… game.”

As Mr. Hight sits at his gold-filigreed desk, he distractedly counts hundred-dollar bills. He is dressed in a dark, striking pin-stripe business suit and his well-appointed office is decadently furnished with priceless artworks. Of particular note, a large plaque that says ‘LINE GO UP’ in bold, sans-serif font surrounded by projections of future Universes Beyond sales hangs directly above his head.

“Ever since I was installed-excuse me, hired-as the President of Wizards of the Coast two years ago, I’ve been amazed at Matt’s boundless creativity.” Mr. Hight stops counting and activates an intercom on his desk. “Lisa, can you please find Mario Rockwater and send him to my office?”

There is a brief pause before a nervous, static-muffled voice responds: “I’m sorry sir, do you mean Mark? He should be in the playroom; I’ll grab him.”

Hight briefly looks annoyed, but his face quickly relaxes as he resumes counting the money. “I’m surprised you’re interested in that little project, we have much more bold ambitions in the works…” his diamond-encrusted watch sparkles as he points upward to a poster on the wall labelled ‘MTG to Fortnite Conversion Plan – Taylor’s Version‘, “…that I’m sure your readers would love to make 4-hour YouTube rants about.”

Before we can ask President Hight what he means, Mark Rosewater arrives. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a blue t-shirt that says ‘Ask me about The Color Pie!’ in bold yellow print.

“Good Mownin’, Mistew Hight!” Mark exclaims, extending an ink-covered open hand towards the President. Mr. Hight declines to join the handshake. “Who are our new fwiends?” Mark asks, completely undeterred. President Hight’s voice raises an octave as he responds in a cheery tone, “Why, they are here to ask about your new game, Mark! The one you have been working so hard on for so long! Why don’t you lead us to the special place of honor we have for it?”

Mark’s eyes light up as he excitedly races down the hall. As the rest of our group saunters after, President Hight’s voice lowers to its usual register: “Mark is… A special boy. He’s very talented. Our little superstar! His aptitude for making engaging limited formats and exciting card designs cannot be replaced-trust me, I’ve tried.” He cackles loudly, laughing until he begins a coughing fit which only ends with him taking out a handkerchief and brushing a strange, black oil from the side of his mouth. He hurriedly deposits the rag in a trash bin that has the words ‘Pioneer Format’ on the side.

“Anyway, there is a slight… problem, however, in that his creativity is absolutely indomitable. Every so often, he works himself into a fit where he refuses to complete any profitable ventures until we produce one of his wacky ideas. Before I arrived, the previous management team allowed him to produce his… Un-Sets…” The President shudders in disgust, “roughly every seven years.”

As we round a corner, Mark pokes his head out from a nearby break room. “Yeah! It was in my contwact!” he shouts as we approach. Mr. Hight’s voice perks up again, clearly surprised that his comments had been overheard by the manic game designer: “Yes, Mark, it was in your contract, which we thankfully renegotiated when I took over. Rather than some stinky booster pack, now your games can live somewhere everyone can see them!”

President Hight walks us over to a refrigerator in the break room, where sure enough, multiple cards labelled “Mood Swings” are stuck beneath antique kitchen magnets. Mark reaches up towards the cards. “Mistew Hight! Can me and my new fwiends play my game now?”

“Not now,” answers Hight, dismissively opening a cabinet in search of a mug. He finds one labelled ‘Vorthos Tears’ and smiles as he pours himself some coffee. “Why don’t you take those 3 copies of Mogg Fanatic over there and go make one of those gameplay puzzles you love so much?”

A disgruntled Mark walks over to us. “Fine, but I want my new fwiend to have this!” He hands us a crumpled-up Magic card. As we go to open it, he stops us. “Onwy open it aftew you leave!” he says, before scurrying away.

President Hight rolls his eyes, takes a quick swig of his coffee. “Game designers are a simple people. They know so much about the little details, the minutiae of how to make a game tick and tock. But they could never understand the big picture.”

He sighs, looking world weary for a moment before regaining his confident composure. “Y’see, what consumers ultimately want, more than any individual game, more than any setpiece, is to know that every single product their favorite game company makes is a high-quality, vigorously tested labor of love. My whole career has been ensuring customers are never let down by sloppy products or mismanaged games. That’s why Wizards poached me from my previous job at Activision-Blizzard.”

Mr. Hight then informs us that he has an upcoming meeting with ‘a big boss, the biggest in fact, with the best numbers’, and we are quickly ushered out of WOTC’s headquarters. On the drive back to our own offices, we unfold the mangled gift Mark handed us.

The card: Doubling Season.

The quality: TCGPlayer Lightly Played.

On the back, in ornate calligraphy, was written the following: “I was here long before any of these shmucks, and I will be here long after. I will outlast them all, biding my time, because only I, MaRo, was given the Mandate of Heaven by Dr. Richard Garfield, PhD. Only I can see this company through its darkest hour.“