You are walking along, minding your own business, when suddenly you realize that there is somebody behind you, close behind you, following you.  You stop to turn around and Chris Crawford crashes into your back.  He had been walking a centimeter behind you, following you step for step; it was his sniggering that gave him away.  "Very funny, big shot," you remark icily.  "I suppose you think you can get away with this silliness because you designed the game."
	"You bet!" he replies happily.  "I can do anything I want to in this game!  But I'm here for a reason this time.  I've noticed that you're not having much luck in the deal-making department.  Perhaps you don't understand just how important it is to be making those deals.  They're the only way that you can get the information you need to win in mental combat.  You're right to be careful not to betray your friends, but you just can't prosper in this game without an occasional little stab in the back.  So get going!"
	He starts to fade away; only a pair of eyebrows and a set of teeth are still visible.  There's enough time for one last question: \
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"How do I know whom to betray and whom to remain faithful to?"
  P"In the back, friends you pat, foes you hack."
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"How do I know when I must betray my friends?"
  P"Ah, that's the stuff of judgement!"
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"Won't they betray me if I betray them?"
  P"Yes, and they will betray you even if you DON'T betray them."
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"Why do you appear like this?"
  P"Because I'm you're fairy godmother."  Loud guffaws follow.
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