THE RIDDLE REALISATION

Four acquaintances could not solve a disagreement. A ticket had been found, but all four laid claim to this ticket, for this ticket was a very important ticket which led to the grandest stage of them all. Each man thought he deserved it more than the other three, and the argument continued until the owner of the golden ticket suddenly appeared.

He told them if they wanted the ticket so bad, they would have to prove they deserved it, and he would adjudicate their quarrel in the best way he knew how. Each man nodded their silent approval and the ticket’s owner took them to a dingy warehouse, filled with junk. He slammed the door shut behind them and clicked a big padlock into place, telling them the first to escape could face him for the ticket. He laughed as he walked away.

The four men looked each other in the eye and separated.

The first man took the north side of the warehouse and set himself to find what he needed to escape, and before too long he found it. He lifted from the jumble, a large, heavy hammer. For although the man was smart, he believed that brute strength would serve him best and his trusty hammer would break him free of his trappings.

The second man took the east side of the warehouse. He soon formed his own plan, with chains and padlocks bundled into a crate catching his eye. For although the man could fight his own battles, he believed that disabling the other men would serve him best – he surely must be the first to escape if the others were cuffed and bound!

The third man took the south side of the warehouse but was unable to figure out a plan. Instead he stumbled across a bottle of moonshine and began to drink. For although he was a capable man, he believed that playing it by ear would serve him best and that the other men would surely give him an idea if he watched them long enough.

The fourth man stayed in the west side of the warehouse, near the door, smiling. He let the other men set about their plans out of sight in their corners of the warehouse, and when they were busy, he walked to the door and pushed it open freely, walking out of the building and towards their taskmaster.

The first three men had been so fixated on the golden ticket that they had forgotten to keep their wits about them. Distracted by each other and the taskmaster, they had failed to notice that the door they were ushered through had but one handle and no chains – there was nothing for the padlock to hold together.

But the fourth man, like me, had kept his mind sharp and focused, already thinking ahead before being trapped, already expecting the mysterious taskmaster to use his little book of riddles.

The fourth man took the prize because his mind was not clouded by the tricks of their judge. Their referee.

Neither will Mysterion’s.