(Or perhaps "The Curse of the Cossacks?")
You know the regular bit on Leverage in which their serious vet identifies who someone trained with by how they throw a punch, or weapons by the sound of the safety being clicked off? ("It has a very distinctive click.") I never laughed at that because I could to it for certain things in certain places, though it generally takes more than one indicator. I was painting up Chuck[Names changed to protect the guilty.] 's last Cossack regiment today, when three things fell into place--paper belting, the writing on the bag and true 25mm scale--and I knew they were formerly the property of Adam. Adam sold off his 25mm armies before he went into a nursing home. He went from there to being bedridden, and died after a couple of years of that. So those castings have been bouncing around not even primed for 13 years or more. It could easily be 15+. Adam when he entered his death spiral sold them to Bob. Bob never touched them in at least six years of ownership, but tossed them in a box marked "Cossack Brigade" with others he'd never really finished. When he died, they passed to Chuck--maybe two or three years ago, now? And Chuck, rightly concluding he was never going to find the time to paint them, put them in the stack for me to do so. I am not the owner, but I am now at least the 4th wargamer of our fairly small group to be saddled with this particular pulk of Cossacks, and though money changes hands, they're really being passed on at death. (Adam might have bought them from a manufacturer or dealer. It's possible. Or there might be a longer trail of death already behind them.)
Now, is Chuck's life in danger as the owner of the Cossacks? Or has he averted his fate by getting them out of his barn (and into my house?) And will I have broken the chain by Wednesday or Thursday, which is when they should be painted, based, grassed and matted?
In the meantime, I've left word with my heir that if I'm dead or hauled away to a nursing home before these guys are painted, based, grassed and mounted, he is not to touch them or claim them, but to have them exorcised and melted down, and to explain to Chuck that it's for the best.
Beware the treacherous slopes of the silver mountain!