Note: My short story book, The Broken World, was a Finalist in the High Plains Book Awards held in October. And although it did not take top prize, it was a great honor, and I did receive a brag-worthy plaque. And plaques are forever.
The National Game
There once was a boy born to play games. First, it was card games, Go Fish and War. Then, board games like Clue and Life. Battleship won him over for a time. He then went through a phase where he challenged everyone he met to a stare down.
But the game that captured him most was Rock-Paper-Scissors. The simple, triangular format of the game fascinated him. Day after day, he’d beg his parents and friends to play. People began to avoid him, then shun him. With nobody to play, his competitive juices festered and he turned sour. Not that anyone noticed.
When he went into politics and squeaked into office, he bided his time until he came up with a plan. He presented a complex financing bill that passed, even though it included one odd provision – the establishment of a National Game as a way to pay for social programs and lower the national debt.
The game was called USA RPS Rock-Paper-Scissors. The national game was enacted into law and soon after matches of Rock-Paper-Scissors were held every Saturday night, broadcast on a new pay-per-view network – NGC National Game Channel. It drew millions of subscribers who were bored out of their skulls and starved for something new. The game became so popular it thrust the boy politician into the national spotlight. His party, long out of power, asked him to run for President. He thought what fun it would be to win the ultimate game, to become the leader of the free world.
And as these things happen, he won. He became the ultimate player in chief. But it wasn’t as much fun as he wanted. There was little time for fun. Over time, Rock-Paper-Scissors grew less popular. There were talks of ending the National Game or switching to a new one. Tic-tac-toe had become popular again and there was even talk of a national thumb-wrestling game. The President was thumbs down on that, still obsessed with Rock-Paper-Scissors.
One morning on the throne, he had a splash of insight. With his party in the majority, he changed the format of Rock-Paper-Scissors. First, he himself would play every game. Opponents would be prison convicts. They had to agree to the rules, meaning if you won you immediately received $10,000 and release from prison. If you lost, you’d be shot on the spot. Two game officials stood behind the convict. One held stacks of money on a tray, the other held a handgun at the convict’s head. A bulletproof glass wall separated the convict and the President so no errant shots or blood spatter could touch the leader of the free world. A two-inch square opening in the wall allowed the contestants to hear each other.
Ten matches were held every Saturday night. Every match was kept to a best of three, to keep the action moving. The new format of RPS captivated the nation. Millions watched. The first night, five convicts lost and were shot in the head, and five won and were paid and immediately released.
Over the next few weeks, the President won more often. One night he won every match and there was much blood spilled. People studied his moves, trying to discern a pattern. He played randomly and always seemed to know what his opponent would do. He would stare into the convict’s eyes as if he could read his mind. The President claimed it was a skill he’d developed over many years of playing stare down. People believed it. Or at least wanted to. Magic is mesmerizing.
He went on a win streak and 22 convicts in a row lost their lives. Blood congealed like cherry pudding on the studio floor. The minority party in the Senate called for an investigation, but was voted down. Then came a Saturday night match unlike any other. A young convict boldly strode onto the stage. He stared unblinking into the eyes of the President, two fighters in the ring.
The first game went to the leader of the free world, who won with Rock. The next game was won by the convict, also with Rock. The third and deciding game brought life to a standstill. The whole nation turned silent and you could hear a train whistle from Old Jersey to West Dakota. The game started with both contestants throwing Scissors. Then both threw Scissors again. Each sat back and looked at each other.
“I see what you’re doing,” the President smirked. Then both threw Rock. People wondered when Paper would appear. The players paused. The announcer counted them down and both leaned forward and threw … Paper. People whispered. The President seldom threw Paper. He wiped his brow with his silk handkerchief and stared at the convict, then turned to his staff and the First Lady sitting near him. All were nervous.
A commercial break was taken and makeup artists swarmed both men. It was hot under the lights. After the break, the announcer said, “Round five. Ready? One, two, show.” On the word “show”, the President hesitated a nanosecond, then threw Scissors. The convict seemingly at the same instant threw … Scissors. The President threw his voice, “What is this? Who are you?”
The announcer said, “Round six. Ready? One, two, show.” The President signaled … Rock. The convict … Paper. Paper covers rock. A hush went through the studio. The President dropped his head, then puffed up, “No! It’s rigged! This is an outrage!” Everyone’s eyes were on the President.
The convict stood up and turned as the game official held out the tray of money. The convict took it and threw it in the face of the other official. He grabbed the official’s gun, wheeled, pointed it through the hole in the glass wall, and fired three times into the head of the President. Red drops speckled the faces of the President’s staff. Bits of pink brain tissue landed in the lap of the First Lady who was holding a furry white cat. The cat, polka-dotted pink, escaped into the shadows of the studio.
The convict was wrestled down and put back in prison. The populace erupted, saying he’d won the match and his freedom. The Supreme Court convened that night and by morning the convict was released. He became a celebrity known for his audacity and courage. People said he could see into the future. His magic surpassed that of the former leader of the free world.
When the convict ran for President and was elected by a wide margin, he put an end to the Rock-Paper-Scissors game, claiming it was susceptible to cheating and had become old hat. He wanted something more dramatic. He’d always liked another game and he pushed for it to become the new US National Pastime. Congress approved it.
Every week, millions tuned in to watch this new spectacle. The rules were simple. A .44 Magnum with six cylinders was loaded with three bullets. Contestants had to put the gun to their temple, pull the trigger, then spin the cylinder and fire again, three times to win the money – now a million dollars. But this game was open to any U.S. citizen, not just convicts.
People lined up to play. Viewership and gun sales soared, as did suicide and interest in Russian literature. The President watched every Saturday night – USA RR Russian Roulette. The minority party called for an investigation into Russian meddling in our national security. It was voted down.
Then, a young politician proposed a bill that would allow states to host their own Russian Roulette matches. Contestants would be chosen in a lottery. The bill is expected to pass. As in ancient Rome, blood rules in America.
Click … click …