Battles and Wars – A Story about LEGO


I played with Legos wrong. 

I didn’t like constructing the Lego sets – like a normal person would – instead, I’d let them fight. 

My parents bought me tons of Legos and it was awesome. My favorites were the medieval knights and forest woodsmen. 

Since they lived in the same “world,” I’d pit them in hand-to-hand combat against each other, and they would fight to the death 

Oh, yeah! Bring it on! 

LEGO – Toy 

If today, I sat on a psychiatrists couch and he asked, “Tell me about your favorite childhood toy.” 

I’d say Legos (and also Ninja Turtles). 

He’d then psycho-evaluate me and be like, “Well you should be an engineer. Legos are the building blocks for great architects, car designers, and house builders.” 

Nope. Mr. Psychiatrist. You’re wrong. 

Because I’d tell stories and my Legos would fight! 

LEGO – Puzzle 

Building the castles and cars was moderately entertaining. It was like working on a puzzle, finding the right piece, and sticking it together properly. 

But really, Legos are more like a weekend IKEA project your wife insists you build for her with mismatched pieces and asinine vague instructions. 

It feels like unpaid labor – it’s work – and it’s horrible. 

Once I was done with the Lego masterpiece, however, I insist it stayed together. I didn’t like rebuilding anything or taking things apart. 

And I definitely didn’t like making my own creations from scratch. I hated that. I just felt like way more work. 

LEGO – Castle 

One time, I built this gigantic castle. It was like my new masterpiece to add to my collection. I couldn’t wait to start storming the gates and protecting it with arrows. It was going to be epic. 

After a weekend of building the set, it was finally finished. Yeah. But then I had to move it to my room. 

I had built it in the dining room, because that’s where all the puzzles got built – with plenty of space to spread things out. 

As I lifted it and carefully made my way to the stairs – CRASH! – I fell and dropped it like a moron. 

It split into a million pieces and I wanted to die. I didn’t feel like building that piece of crap castle all over again. My life was ruined. 

LEGO – Play 

When I’d sit in my room, I had two distinct structures – the medieval castle and the forest hideout. 

The knights would defend the castle. I liked the knights a lot because they had cool helmets, armor, swords, and crossbows. They even had mean looking horses with matching robes and colors. I had a ghost figure too – he was creepy. 

And then the woodsmen were like Robin Hood. They wore green clothes, had bows and arrows, and funny pointed hats like Peter Pan. 

I’d get them set up on either side of the room. Then they’d fight. They’d invade each other’s base and try and steal the Queen and stuff. They’d betray each other and switch sides. And they’d definitely chop off those yellow Lego heads. “To the gallows!” 

I was creating backstories. I’d be like, “This guy is related to him, and that’s his wife. But this guy stole his wife. So he wants to kill him.” And go – start scene. 

LEGO – Bro 

I’d call up my little brother too and make him move around some of the characters – because I only have like two hands and these were some epic battles. 

I’d tell him what their motivation was and what they were guarding. He’d be really into it too, and would happily let his entire team die for the sake of the story. 

But really, I didn’t know how the story would end – we’d have to fight it out and see. 

LEGO – Story 

In my mind, I’ve never stopped the Lego war. 

They’re still fighting in my head, switching alliances, and slitting each other’s throats. I can’t stop telling the story. 

They’ve taken different forms, and evolved – these are characters fulfilling fantasies and heroic stories we’ll never get to live. 

Sometimes it’s just fun to tell an unbelievable story, and play a game, with a bunch of plastic characters. 

Because frankly, as we age, we’ve all grown pathetic and no one’s willing to stick their neck out any more. No one takes any risks. 

So this is the only epic story we’ll ever get to experience – through the imaginary lives of little yellow men. 

“Off with their heads!