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94 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 1995
FIRST SECOND: Hast thou not seen that wicked staring faceSee what I mean? The non-chessplayers are most likely already yawning and rolling their eyes. For the people still reading, here's the beginning of "Chess Club Drifter":
which sits each day upon the second row?
SECOND SECOND: We must protest upon't, and have him thrown
back to the chamber's rear where he belongs.
I'll pen a missive to the arbiter
Meanwhile put on these glasses which reflect;
they'll turn his evil magic on himself.
THIRD SECOND: But don't forget the yoghurt in your note;
for if complaint is menu for the day,
be sure we do complain both well and long.
VICTOR [aside:] These seconds do protest too much, methinks.
See this position wherein I've adjourned.
There's tricks yet to be found. Come analyse!
FIRST SECOND: That's best!
SECOND SECOND: Nay this!
THIRD SECOND: No, something else instead!
VICTOR: Work well, dear friends. I'm shagged and off to bed.
He never said where he came from, and few even dared ask. The tall man rode into Dodge City with only the clothes on his back and a chess set in his hand. All eyes were on the stranger as he strode into the saloon. Conversation came to a sudden stop and an ominous silence seized the smoky air as he pushed a dollar bill towards the bartender.
'Gimme a drink,' said the stranger. 'Tea, no milk, one sugar.' The bartender stood motionless, his hands pushing down on the bar, his eyes fixed menacingly on the face of the newcomer. After a few seconds which felt like minutes, the stranger spoke again. 'Please,' he added defiantly.