Meet Piper. She’s one of those smart dogs.
For the record, the real joke here is that Forrest would murder me at chess. I’ve chosen my words carefully as he and I have never actually met on the checkered battlefield, but he’s thoroughly trounced another friend of mine who had always mated me even before I sat down. One does not watch a pack of wolves take down a wild bison and then have anything to wonder about regarding the probability of surviving a similar conflict.
Then again, Forrest plays dirty.
You see this friend of mine had an incisive intellect and was well read on the topics of kings and making other players turn theirs over, but he also had a dash of obsessive-compulsive disorder that Forrest noticed early on and bent to his advantage. The artist would place his pieces haphazardly in their destination spaces, sometimes accidentally overlapping an adjacent space, or clumsily knocking one of his opponent’s off-center. The result was that Forrest’s nemesis spent so much of his time fastidiously tidying the board that he had little of that most precious of resources to spend on formulating strategy. This is not crap they’d put up with at regionals, but in the co-op pub on the third floor of the University Centre, anything goes.
Ja.
Meet Piper. She’s one of those smart dogs.