Mind Game

Sunday at the compound.

The denizens were all trying to stave off the summer heat on the front porch. Drizzling life sustaining drops of Cervesa down our throats, we passed the time within our own particular idioms. The Liechtensteinian and the Cur were reading harrowing tales of the undead while the empty shell of a man, that was once my brother paced and smoked; struggling with his recent defeat.

The chair in front of me was open, still fresh with his shame. I put forth the challenge and it was answered immediately by the dreaded Ortega…

It has been rumored in hushed whispers that to play Backgammon with her was akin to placing ones head into the lion’s mouth. A bead of sweat formed on my brow as the dice clinked together like ticking clock of doom in my palm.

“Let’s do this…” she intoned in a low rumble which sent chills down the spines of the porch dwellers and made the gentle K9 slumbering at my feet whine and cower under the bench.

Dice cart wheeled in a polka dot windmill. Brown and white pieces moved at a feverish pace, I was captured and my reentrance to the board shut down by deft maneuvering. I was loosing ground and could see the confidence of victory in the Ortega’s satanic orbs. It was the moment of truth and I realized that this game could not be won by mere strategy and the luck of the roll. This was a mind war and she was prevailing at fisticuffs. I needed a weapon.

Just then, the small, overpriced, pod like electronic device which provided us our aural stimulation chose in its random selection the soundtrack to my salvation. An anthem called “Chicken Little” composed by the extinct art band Idiot Flesh. The 12 minutes of hell sounds which followed gave me the edge that I needed.

Hunting flute and violin arias moaned over minor key power chords and the drums thundered in rhythm with the tumbling dice. My eyeball bulged like an Edgar Allan Poe nightmare as I stroked my beard and coughed out bellowing guffaws. Finally as I caterwauled the phase “The Sky is Falling…better tell the king.” Double sixes greeted my power hungry eyes and by a miracle of ardent intimidation, I was able to reduce the once mighty Ortega to shivering pile conquered skin and bone.

The land is safe now, but a dark cloud still hangs over the Backgammon board. She is regaining her power like Godzilla in a volcano and I know that a rematch is imminent.

The miniature poultry and I will be ready….