[size=150]CHESS GAME[/size]
Over the sixty-four square pieces of obsidian and opal, a war had been wagered. The two players would be referring to themselves as supreme dieties or great generals, weilding the fate of their army in their hands, but not today. The game had gone on for some time already. Only a few power pieces remained on both sides, but the real battle would be decided by the smallest of those pieces.
"Have you ever really studied them John?"
"What's that Tim?"
"The hordlings that trample over each other just to catch a glimpse of their gods or goddess. You've seen them, but have you ever truly studied them?"
"No, I haven't. What does this have to do with the chess game?"
"Oh, wouldn't you like to know," Tim speaks devilishly as one of his black knights gallops on its steed across the boards with its bloodthirsty sword, eager to smite down John's holy bishop. Gracefully, the obsidian knight passes around several opal pawns, dodging their puny spears with its keen tactics. Suddenly the white-robed bishop falls in a single blow to the head.
"I'm assuming you're going to tell me."
"Indeed, but first, make your move," urges Tim. John quickly orders his other bishop to move in and eliminate the disturbingly keen black knight. Using such divine powers that would amaze many peasants. Floating off the ground, the holy bishop levitated to a reasonable height. It then proceeded to fly across the opal and obsidian battlefield meeting with the knight of darkness whose doom was as swift as the wind. Caught in a peril of gleaming divine energies that swirled around him, the knight was pulled down into a black hole of eternal void. He was no more for sure.
"Hmm..good move."
"Thank you," returns John adamantly.
"Now, each celebrity, be it in the music or movie industry, or anywhere for that matter, has guards. Like our kings and queens, a celebrity must have a knight, a bishop, and a castle to guard them. However, all celebrities have fans, minions, pawns. Does it not make you wonder to what end a desperate fan would actually want from their most prized celebrity besides signing everything they own. To such an extreme, any such fan would be liable to serve a certain celebrity if it were to guarantee something worthwhile. This liability can extend to serve as a weapon for the celebrity, do you not agree?"
"Are you telling me that celebrities are part of an elaborate chess game of stylized life?"
"To an extent, yes. When you really look at it all, everything on this planet can be compared to a game of chess. There is a goal in everything and a strategy of getting to that goal."
“I don’t know which to call you Tim. A philosopher or a psychopath.â€
“Then let me delude your confusion. Philosopher.â€
“You would say that wouldn’t you,†exclaims John.
"Just as I would make a move such as this," Tim comments as he quickly recovers from the blow to his knight by pushing up his rook. The stalwart tall mobile castle, pushed by several strongmen in the rear, moves like a juggernaut across the battlefield. Within moments, the sheer momentum literally ran over the dark bishop. The body pulled below and crushed by stone wheels. The white glow in the bishop's eyes glimmered brightly in the horrid scream before dying out beneath the daunting mobile fortress. It suddenly turned to face the solidly devout white king.
“Check."
“You risk much in this game, like those fans.â€
“Oh?â€
"Yes. When your focus is someone else, others do not seem important to you. There are those who would kill to be friends with their ‘gods’ or ‘goddesses’. It is they who risk much to achieve happiness."
"Jesus Tim," John bursted, and after a brief pause overlooking the board said, "you sincerely are insane."
"Tell that to those fans. Those who breathe, drink, and eat the merchandise of their fabled superiors. Just like your succeptability to let my castle get through to put your king in danger. You did not put enough focus on protecting your king. And now it shall die for the glory of my king, which it will do nicely."
"I don't think so," counters John as his hand is cast over the battlefield to command his white knight to ride by the castle and set it aflame. In mere moments, the blazing fire engulfed and incinerated the cumbersome vehicle of gargantuan proportions. However, all was not in vain as a mere pawn moved in with a four-foot spear to knock the mighty knight off his horse and into the flames. There were no more power pieces left now. Just the kings and their lowest minions in a battle of brute force. White and black battled to reign over the hardened land tortured by war and strife. When it came down to it, it was the pawn that decided the game. And when John's king and battle-hardened soldiers cornered the black king, it was over not as was expected. The checkmate never came. Tim was too proud to go down like that. The black king drank the vile poison that was stashed in his coat and fell on the battlefield just as the enemy approached.
"I think you're right Tim. The fans are the ultimate weapon."
Tim smirked.
-END-
