2Title: A Game of Chess, with dying nerves
Setting: A shabby living room, a slightly worn table in the middle, a chessboard set up precisely on it. Harry sits stiffly on one side, his face the determination of a teacher. Marv nestles on the other, a bag of chips in one hand, a horse figure in the other, which he is spinning around and around.
Harry (patiently): So... the pawn only moves one step forward, but it can capture diagonally. The bishop moves diagonally, the rook moves straight, and the queen... she can move in any direction, any number of directions.
Marv (pointing at the king): And this little pot-bellied guy?
Harry: The king? He can move one square in any direction. The goal is to checkmate him.
Marv (raising his eyebrows): Wait, so he's the boss, but he barely knows anything?
Harry (nodding): Exactly. If he's in check and can't escape, the game is over.
Marv (feigning shock): And what if I just... knock him off the table? Bamm! Problem solved.
Harry (patiently, but already squinting): We're not literally "knocking him out", Marv. We're checkmating him. We're surrounding him. Like a military operation.
Marv (leans back thoughtfully): So the whole game is about chasing the king, but you're not allowed to knock him out?
Harry (groans): Yes! This isn't a war movie! This is strategy!
Marv (leans forward grinning): So it's like setting a trap in some stupid kid's house, only instead of knocking him down, you just give him a nasty look?
Harry (slightly excited): Yes! Exactly! The difference is that here... you don't get a bucket of paint left on you!
Marv (grabs the horse and moves it next to the king): So I'll park this horse here to protect the boss. Like a bodyguard. The helicopter can come!
Harry (frowns): What kind of helicopter?
Marv (puts together a bishop and a rook and spins it like a propeller): Combined super piece. New rule. If you put two pieces together, it can fly. Infinite steps.
Harry (face on the table): No... that's not how it works. We don't build Gundams out of figures, Marv.
Marv (offended): Okay, then I'll put the king back in the middle so he can rule like he should.
Harry (shaking): He can't go there... he's not even there when you start... Marv, you're doing on purpose.
Marv (smiling): No way, Harry. I'm just trying to enjoy a game where the king can't fight, the pawn can't retreat, and there aren't even any proper explosions.
Harry (shaking his hands to straighten the pieces): It's a mental challenge... not for fun, but... (stops, realizing the truth)... okay, it might be a little boring, but...
Marv (grins, kicks his own row off the table): I won anyway. King fell. Contemporary abstract chess.
Harry (with a faint smile, resigned): Matt. Not for him. For me.
Title: The Rematch Harry Didn't Want
Setting: The same living room. The chessboard is again carefully set up on the table. Harry sits in his seat with resigned determination. Marv is already sitting there, his feet tucked under the table, as if he really cares. He watches Harry with a suspiciously innocent expression.
Harry (a little suspiciously): So... you really want to play?
Marv (smiling): Absolutely. I'm serious today. Just strategy, pure play. I swear!
Harry (nods, but watches suspiciously): Okay. You can start.
Marv (grabs one of his pawns, moves it forward, then says with a grin): This pawn is a specialist. If it moves three squares at once, it teleports.
Harry (raises his eyebrows at the first move): It can move one, or two on the first turn. No teleport, no magic, no... Star Trek.
Marv (puts it back down with a sigh): Oh well... I was just trying to spice it up. It's boring like this.
Harry (seriously): Try to be bored without breaking the rules of reality.
Marv (moves a pawn properly, then sighs and looks at Harry): Harry, honestly... do you enjoy this?
Harry (patiently): It's an intellectual battle. Like... mental wrestling. Or like when you know what the other guy is going to do before he knows.
Marv (grinning): Like when you turn the doorknob and the guy tries to get out but keeps hitting his head!
Harry (smiling at last): Something like that, yeah.
Marv (suddenly looking seriously at the board): Good. I'm coming now.
(Marv picks up his king and simply races across the board with it like a jet, bypassing Harry's pieces and placing it next to the king.)
Marv (triumphantly): Checkmate! The king came in on speed. I overdid the strategy!
Harry (stares at him silently for a moment, then slowly raises his head): Did you overdo it...?
Marv (nodding enthusiastically): Yes! Like a time trial in Formula 1. Strategic overachievement. This is a new trend. Chess 2.0.
Harry (groans, standing up): You know what? So be it. Victory is yours. Congratulations, Grandmaster Marv.
Marv (leans back, satisfied): Finally some recognition. I'm going to put this on the fridge now.
Harry (walking away): Just don't screw it up...
Title: The game that would get the inventor of chess arrested
Setting: Same living room, same table, but something has changed: Harry's face is set, as if he's going to war. Marv is already sitting there, apparently overly enthusiastic, as if he's about to put on a show.
Harry (with cold seriousness): I'm telling you, Marv. This is the last one. If you continue to act like a clown, it's over
Marv (grinning with his mouth full): I swear, Harry, today... you're going to hate me even more than yesterday!
Harry (already out of breath, but nodding): Let's just play.
Marv (grabs a pawn, moves it forward): Classic opening. Death march variant.
Harry (looks at the board): That's a simple pawn move.
Marv (winks): The names set the mood.
Harry (sighs and takes a step): Good. My turn.
Marv (gets up immediately, heads for the kitchen): Wait a minute! I'll check if there's any popcorn left. In the meantime, I'll put the rook in automatic mode. (pulls the rook towards Harry's king)
Harry (jumps up): The rook is NOT moving by itself, Marv!
Marv (comes back, shrugging): Why not? All games evolve. Chess needs AI moves too. Think of it like a smart rook.
Harry (looks at him with wolfish eyes): This is chess. Not robotics. Sit down.
Marv (sits down, but is already preparing for another trick): Okay, okay. But now I'm going to start a "psychological attack". The figures... are crying with fear. (starts to imitate strange sounds, as if the figure is begging) "Don't put me there, leader! Here comes the bishop!"
Harry (stiffly): If one more figure speaks your voice, I'll throw the whole set out the window.
Marv (leans back cheekily): So... there can't be any talking figures? I just asked the king to surrender.
Harry (takes a step with clenched teeth): Chess.
Marv (grinning at the situation, then... picks up his king and moves it to another board that's gathering dust on the top of the cupboard): There's a better view. This king is panoramic.
Harry (freezes, then quietly): How did that board get there?
Marv (shrugs): I'm prepared. A two-front war. Extended chess.
Harry (sits back, almost trembling): This... is not... happening.
Marv (finally elbows the board with complete impudence): Do you know what's wrong with chess, Harry?
Harry (desperately): What?
Marv (whispering, with a devilish smile): That it's too important to you. And I... am taking advantage of that.
(Silence. Harry stands up, quietly packing up the pieces. Marv is already dipping a bishop into chips.)
Harry (quietly, to himself): One day... one day there will be a game that you take seriously... and then I will laugh at it... and by then it will be too late, Marv.
Marv (thinks, then shrugs): Until then... checkmate.
Title: The Last Game (again)
Setting: The living room, doomed to chess forever. The chessboard is set up again. Harry sits, circles under his eyes, an impatient determination on his face. Marv takes his seat with his usual cheeky grin, pulls a jingling bag of candy from his pocket, and tosses it carelessly onto the chessboard.
Harry (grimly): Why are you here again? Aren't you bored yet?
Marv (grinning): Of annoying you? Never.
Harry (sighs, moves a pawn): Just... try to play normally at least once.
Marv (nods, then places a pawn diagonally behind the enemy rook): He's lying in wait there. Guerrilla pawn.
Harry (brow twitches): No... you can't... move diagonally... with a pawn... Marv!
Marv (spreads his arms): That's not diagonally, that's... sideways. Technical difference.
Harry (snaps in frustration): But why are you doing it? Why are you playing if you're just trying to screw things up?
Marv (turning serious, for a moment genuinely honest): Because the rules... have never been my friends.
(pause)
Marv (shrugs, leans back): Neither for you, Harry.
Harry (looks at him in surprise): Now... what are you trying to say?
Marv (smiles slyly): Two guys who break into houses, try to outsmart traps, pick safes... but here, on the chessboard, you're playing the sheriff?
Harry (pauses, eyes darkening)
Marv (continues): We've always played by our own rules. I'm just... consistent. And you're like trying to pretend you don't remember who we are.
Harry (quietly): It's... just chess.
Marv (picks up the king and puts him on top of a rook): So the king's in a tank now. Because the king nevel walks alone.
Harry (laughs at himself, bitterly): That's the most idiotic thing I've ever... wait. No. You also drilled the manhole cover on the police car in the main square.
Marv (proudly): And yet... it worked.
(A moment of silence. Harry finally leans back, looking at the tank king.)
Harry (that's all he says): Walk to C4.
Marv (surprised): Are we going to play now?
Harry (sighing): Let's... see how long I can last.
Title: The Chess That Finally Wasn't Chess
Setting: The familiar living room. The chessboard is set up again, but now it's incomplete: a pawn has been replaced by a salt shaker, a lighter has been placed in place of a rook. The rules have long since walked out the door. Marv sits casually, Harry leans forward, a strange smile on his face.
Marv (with his usual cheeky grin): My bishop is moving at double speed today because he had coffee this morning.
Harry (nods thoughtfully): That's right. My king can only move one space back today because he has a cold.
Marv (laughs): So he's afraid of the front line. I see! That's more realistic!
Harry (grabs the salt shaker and moves it forward): This is the salt pawn. It attacks with acid. It moves, and all the pieces next to it melt. Of course... only if it's sunny.
Marv (nods seriously, as if it's a council of war): It's cloudy today, so it'll just burn them a little. Fair.
(They laugh.)
Marv (stands up, picks up the king with both hands and walks him around the board like in a triumphal procession): I announce: my queen is on parade. She's not attacking, he's just showing off his new uniform.
Harry (leaning back): This is the first queen I'm not afraid of... but a little envious of his style.
Marv (sitting down, getting serious for a moment): Hey Harry... that's... pretty good.
Harry (smiling): Because I'm finally not trying to save chess from you.
Marv (looking at him in surprise): Have you given up on order?
Harry (shrugging): No... I just realized there's no point in expecting order where the two of us are present.
Marv (proudly): That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me.
(A moment of silence, then they both laugh.)
Harry (pointing to the board): Chess.
Marv (sarcastically): What? How can it be chess when my king is on vacation on the microwave?
Harry (smiling): Oh, then excuse me... salt storm warning. The playing field is evacuated.
(They both pick up their pieces and quickly "rescue" them from the board, laughing like children in the middle of an improvised game.)
Neither of them won. And maybe for the first time in their lives, it didn't matter.