Quirky Corko, intrepid blockhead and bizarre proponent of genetic diversity, is the world's first, last, and only Kiwiloon. How it came about that a Kiwi bird from New Zealand met a Canadian loon is the subject of much speculation but that pales in comparison to the rampant blithering on the subject of how the pair's first and only child was born. (Should he ever have a sibling, it's likely that it would be a Lowikion or an Oniklowi.)

We choose to sidestep this neatly by pointing out that he's a bird, so he hatched.

After a wasted childhood spent mostly overseas (quite literally; the family travelled frequently between his parents' nations of origin), and with dual citizenship and a bone to pick with the Swiss, Corko arrived in Paris (where he acquired his beret) and promptly fell in love with everything pantomime and monochrome, especially an albino pigeon by the name of Claire. But Claire was fickle, and so with love unrequited, Corko turned his tailfeathers on the world and focused on his secret passion, things that could be stacked.

During long flights between Canada and New Zealand, Corko had developed a passion for anything that wasn't liquid in any way; the squarer and more solid, the better. With these "blocks," as he called them, in mind, he devised a fiendish trap for the giant meddling featherless beakless flightless noisy walking targetbirds (someone once told him that they weren't actually birds, but that was just too pert) who had stolen the attention and affection of his beloved Claire, and this trap was in the form of the game you see before you.

Unfortunately for Corko, he was never very good at planning (he once decided to fire himself out of a cannon in protest of deforestation only to find that the cannon started a brushfire that raged on for three days), and the game, although as infectious and addictive as he'd hoped, didn't really cause much harm except to eyesight, and even that was becoming less of a problem with the advent of LCD screens.

So here you are, prepared to undertake the Mid-Afternoon Tea of Champions, to run the gauntlet of Corko, to fight the good fight, and use as many tired clichés and/or idioms in a single paragraph as is humanly possible. Go forth, noble warrior, with one final reminder: Corko's plan may not have backfired completely, as his invention,  Brettrix (reputedly because it's an anagram of Terxtrib, the Kiwiloon word for "there is no escape for you, pitiful chromatically overbalanced giant meddling featherless beakless fligthless noisy walking targetbird"), has been known to absorb all the free time in the immediate vicinity.