Glorified

In spite of what we discussed, the rest of the week was mostly tests and learning a new routine for our first show at the end of the month. While they would often coast during the racing parts of training, the RGB guys really brought their A-game when it came to the performances. Green was good of course, but Red and Blue were on another level, even better than I was. They had the routine down almost immediately and really had the star power to draw attention while on stage, but… they both wanted the lead part and there was fighting. First it was verbal, and then hooves were thrown. Green ended up taking the lead role, and the other two were relegated to ‘time out’ until they could behave themselves on stage together.

In training, we had our first injury courtesy of the mean mare who’d strained her wing shoulder, the first sign that a tear is going to happen. With that, she was grounded for a week, and anyone else who was caught doing extra training would also be grounded. Two days later, the big guy was also grounded. He pleaded the case that strength training is not the same as flight training, to which Captain Spitfire responded, “What part of ‘no outside training’ did you not understand!?”

Since our only real assignment on Friday was to watch the B-team performance and the A-team short distance race being held that day, in the evening, Spitfire wanted everypony to get together for team building. While I’d gathered about who all didn’t like me in particular, I’d also gathered that most of these ponies didn’t like each other. A lot of them are the hyper-competitive Mom-type pony, which makes sense for a Wonderbolt, but also makes for explosive personalities attempting to work together.

At about 6 in the evening, we gathered in the common room of the C-team barracks. The TV area had been cleared and a big table with a deck of cards and a game board had been set out. There were snacks and drinks by the communal kitchen at the back of the room, and the Captain, Effie, the color picker ma—er, Edelweiss and Raptor were all waiting for us.

“Alright, everypony,” Spitfire said, “take a seat. We’re going to play a fun little game tonight.”

As there were just enough seats for everyone, I tried to get one as far from Effie and Spitfire as possible, but everypony filled in spots so fast that I only just managed to end up on the other side of the table. Instead of getting away, I ended up directly across from Effie. She smiled and waved at me, and I just meekly, flaccidly waved back.

“I know I said 'we,' but I won’t actually be playing,” Spitfire announced. “Anypony know this game?”

The cards and pieces were all branded ‘Secret Sombra’ and given who that was, it made me wonder if Uncle Discord knew this game…

“Oh, I do,” the bird guy said. “This is that game where you lie to the other players to try and get a dictator elected, right?”

“That’s right,” Spitfire said. “Have you played before, 57?”

“No, but I’ve delivered it before at my last job. I read the box and it sounded interesting, but uh, ya know. Gotta have ponies to play with.”

Well, that makes me feel bad.

“Um,” the blue mare began, “should we be playing this? We already had a fight this week once, and this game can get pretty intense…”

Spitfire glared at the red and blue stallions. “Oh, that’s exactly why we’re playing this. While individual records bring in individual sponsorships, our performances are what fund the Wonderbolts. Some ponies will come to see a race, but a lot of ponies will come to see a show. More butts in seats, more eyes on ads, more videos to record and post online. While the Wonderbolts originally served as a fighting force, we’re now a business. So if you want to keep your prestige, your fancy training tech, and your food and board, you’re gonna work together. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the table reluctantly replied.

“Good.” She passed out envelopes to the players. “Look at your card, but don’t reveal it to anyone. It will either say you’re a Loyalist, an Imperialist, or Sombra. The goal of the game is to enact a certain number of policies, or have Sombra become the Prime Minister after four Imperialist policies have been enacted. Sombra is also an Imperialist, but he doesn’t know who else is on his team. If you’re an Imperialist, you win the game by making Sombra the PM or enacting five imperialist policies. If you’re a Loyalist, you win by enacting five loyalist policies or killing Sombra.”

The big stallion raised his hoof.

Spitfire rubbed at her forehead, “Look, 34, you’re an adult and I’m not a teacher, just ask if you have a question.”

Embarrassed, he put his hoof down. “How do we enact these policies? Do we debate on their merit, or, what system is this based upon? Equestria does not exactly have a way to usurp the princess.”

“Oh, the policy cards are just cards that say they’re Loyalist or Imperialist. It’s loosely based on Equestria’s system of government. First, this little placard denotes the Princess. The Princess then chooses somepony to be PM, and everypony votes on that. There should be a ‘Yeigh’ and ‘Neigh’ card in your envelope. You hold that up to vote. From there, the Princess draws three cards from the policy deck, and passes two to the PM. The PM then selects one and places it on the board.”

“So, like,” the green stallion asked, “if somepony puts an Imperialist card down, doesn’t that kinda out them immediately?”

“Good observation, 29. The trick is that there are only six Loyalist policy cards, and eleven Imperialist cards. At some point, you may simply draw three imperialist cards and you’re stuck, but nopony ever said you had to be honest about anything you do in the game. It’s more about convincing your fellow players that you’re not the bad guy and putting your policies in place on the sly.”

“Ooh, this sounds fun!” Trade Wind exclaimed. “Trainer Spitfire, would you mind if I streamed this?”

She thought about that. “You can record it and send me the footage, then we can talk about whether it goes online or not.”

Not sure I like the thought of this being online. I’ve played social games like this where winning requires lying depending on your side, and I am not very good at it. Weirdly, it’s always the mares who are the best liars when we play games like this. Cheesette is a monster in that alien imposter game.

“Will do!” And before anypony could do anything else, Trade Wind had set up tripods and two different cameras on either side of the table. This is the first thing Spitfire has ever said yes to, so clearly she’s excited, but I’m surprised she had all that stuff just on her.

“Oh, we’re on camera, are we?” the red stallion said, messing with his mane. “I suppose I can break out the acting skills. How do we find these dirty imperialists anyways?”

“There are eight Loyalists, four Imperialists, and one Sombra,” Spitfire continued. “The imperialists will know who each other and Sombra is, but Sombra will not know the imperialists. You obtain powers as more Imperialist policies are played. The powers are on the board, but they go as such: at one and two, the Princess gets to check a player’s identity card. What she does with that information is up to her. At three, the Princess gets to choose the next Princess, disrupting order. At four and five, the Princess gets to kill a player. If the killed player happens to be Sombra, the Loyalists win. If Sombra gets elected PM at this point, the Imperialists win. And of course, the Imperialists win if six Imperialist policies are enacted.”

Raptor frowned. “Is this not sort of stacked against the Loyalists?”

The Captain turned to him. “Just like in the real world, corruption wins through lies and deceit, and it’s a whole lot easier to lie than you think. You have to fight for your freedom, because if the Princess won’t protect it, then it’s up to you, and that’s how we get into civil wars. Now then, as long as there are no more questions, we can start the game.”

Nopony spoke up and though I wasn’t entirely clear on how it all worked, I figured I might as well play to see what happens.

Spitfire shuffled the policy deck, then passed the Princess placard to Raptor. “We’ll be passing the placard counterclockwise. Everypony please take your votes out of your envelope, and check your ID card.”

I checked inside mine, and luckily, I was a Loyalist. Hopefully that keeps me from having to do much.

“Now, everypony, close your eyes. Imperialists other than Sombra, open your eyes and confirm who your members are.”

I heard the slightest shuffling from all around.

“If you are Sombra, keep your eyes closed, but raise a hoof.”

Absolute silence.

“Everypony may now open their eyes. Raptor, please choose a PM.”

And now the ball was in his court. He looked at everypony, then the placard in his hoof, then turned to Edelweiss who was sitting next to him. “You can be PM, Edie.”

The red stallion immediately objected. “Come now, on what basis should we elect her? Is there any reason to trust that she isn’t an Imperialist?”

Raptor rubbed at his forehead. “Nightingale, we just started. Nopony knows anything, if you’re an Imperialist, you’re already suspicious going off like that.”

“Oh.”

“Any more objections before we call a vote?” Raptor asked?

There were none, so the vote went. Nightingale still voted neigh, but he was alone.

“Why did you vote neigh, Nightingale?” Edelweiss asked, already tired.

He crossed his forelegs. “I don’t know who’s who. It’s safer to always vote no than vote yes just to confirm a suspicion, isn’t it?”

“Am I losing my mind, or does that make some level of twisted sense?” Edelweiss asked.

“Twisted is right,” the blue stallion said. “How mistrustful do you have to be to vote no on everything? This is politics, right? You need a little give and take to get anything done.”

Nightingale huffed. “Better mistrustful than sorry.”

Raptor shook his head. “Goddess, this is going to be a headache.” He drew his three cards from the deck, put one in the discard pile, and passed the rest to Edelweiss.

Edelweiss looked at her cards, then raised a brow. “Oh, Raptor, there doesn’t seem to be a Loyalist policy here.”

His head shot back. “There isn’t? Hold on, I definitely…”

“Nope, two Imperialist cards, right from the start. I mean, there are more Imperialist cards in the deck, but come on, right from the start? The chances of that have to be astronomically—”

“About twenty-five percent,” the blue mare finished.

Edelweiss blinked. “Oh, what, really?”

“Yep,” the blue mare, who happened to be sitting next to me, continued, “At this stage in the game it should be about twenty-five percent to get three Imperialist cards on the first draw, given what we’re working with.”

Raptor raised a brow at her. “Remind me to take you with me next time I visit the casino.”

The blue mare shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not allowed in most of those.”

He raised his other brow at that. “Learn something new every day. Uh, since an Imperialist policy was played, I get to check anypony’s ID, right?”

The captain nodded. “That’s correct.”

His lip curled and he narrowed in on me. “Prism, why don’t you show me your card?”

“Uh, okay. Here, I guess.” I didn’t have anything to hide, so I didn’t see a reason why not.

He looked in the envelope, checked the card, frowned and passed it back. “Found our first Imperialist.”

I frowned, double-checked the card, then set it back down. “Uh, do you need to get your eyes checked? That’s clearly not what my card says.”

He didn’t even look at me. “I figured you couldn’t be trusted and here we are. Well, you all can believe whoever you want, but I’m telling you he’s an Imperialist.”

“And you’re lying through your teeth! Here, look—”

Spitfire held a wing up. “In case you forgot, you cannot show your card to anypony outside the Princess’s request. Put the card down, Prism.”

I sat back down and threw my envelope on the table. “I see how it is. You’re the Imperialist!”

He smiled smugly at me. “Sounds like something an Imperialist would say, but you can keep arguing your case. It’s Edie’s turn to be Princess.” He passed the placard over, and she frowned at it.

“So Raptor is definitely an Imperialist. I almost want to try and get a fascist policy in place just to make sure he’s not Sombra…”

“I’m confused,” Trade Wind began, “does that mean Raptor has been lying the whole time and he’s the imperialist, or Edelweiss and Prism are both imperialists and they’re the ones lying?”

The big stallion crossed his hooves. “It is already difficult to make out the truth and yet you would actively ask for another fascist policy in an effort to uncover the truth? Does that make us any better than them if we would abuse the levers of power to get what we want?”

“Omelets don’t get made if you don’t crack eggs, blockhead,” the mean mare said.

The big guy’s eye twitched. “And what about my head resembles a block!? Who are you to comment on my head shape, little mare?”

“The fact that it’s filled with wood, you big idiot! The government is always big and slow and useless and filled with junk, so we ought to break the rules just to make something happen for a change!”

Pigeonhole brought a hoof to his chin. “Is that not what they call the ‘slippery slope?’ I think I’ve heard this on TV before.”

“I’ve heard that too,” I said, “but Raptor is lying about me, so I’m willing to go along with it.”

Raptor shook his head. “That’s how it starts, ya see? One Imperialist working with another to break the conventions of our dearly held foundations just to take more power for themselves. This is how we lose our republic, ponies.”

The green stallion looked like his brain was about to fry. “Imma be honest with y’all, I am not following this at all. Can we just take a vote or whatever? I’ll vote yes for anything just to make this end.”

“Alright, how about making Prism PM?” Edelweiss asked. “Anypony want to commit votes?”

“Ugh, him? Hell no!” The mean mare said.

“On this point, I can agree with you. No.” The big guy said.

Yeah, figured as much.

“I don’t see why not,” Pigeonhole said.

“I mean, I said I’d vote yes,” Green said.

“Nah, I’m not voting for an imperialist,” Raptor said.

“Neither will I,” Nightingale added.

“Fuck you—” the blue stallion pointed at the red one “—I’ll vote for him.”

“I’ll vote for him too!” the blue mare said. “He gave his card up without hesitating Nopony would get mad like that if they were really lying.”

“Ooh, the vote seems split!” Trade Wind exclaimed. “Let’s put it up to see how it goes!”

Everypony held up their cards, and surprisingly, it was seven for six against, with Trade Wind being the tiebreaker.

Edelweiss passed me the placard, drew three cards, then gave me two. “You can play either of these. If you pick one, we’re closer to winning, if you pick the other I can prove Raptor is an Imperialist and clear your name. Your choice.”

Looking at the cards, there was one Imperialist and one Loyalist. As much as I’d like to know he’s a bad guy for sure, I’d rather just get closer to winning. I played the Loyalist policy. “There. Edelweiss was telling the truth, and I’m not an Imperialist.”

“I suppose I can believe that,” said the pale, uppity stallion who took the Princess placard next, “but there is much doubt being thrown about and I’m not too concerned about the truth.”

The big guy reared back. “Not concerned about the truth? In what else is there value?”

The uppity stallion tilted his head to the side dismissively. “Money, fame, power. This is a game about power, not truth, and the goal is to win. If you’re so all about truth, you be PM and give me a Loyalist policy. Any objections?”

“I don’t like him!” the mean mare objected.

“Any objections of merit?” The uppity stallion asked.

Raptor shook his head. “Not in particular.”

Most ponies agreed to that and the game moved on. The big guy played a Loyalist policy. “There. Three more and we will have defeated this Imperialist rot within our system.”

The Princess placard moved on to Trade Wind. “Well, now that I’ve got the choice, why don’t we invite our easy-going friend to be PM! How about Siccoro?”

The green stallion’s ears stood up. “Oh, what, me?”

“Yes, you, silly!” She slid the placard across the table in front of him. “How about it, guys? We’ll make it through this game yet!”

Again, there were no real objections, and after a vote of ten to three, Nightingale, the mean mare and the uppity stallion being the neighs, Siccoro got the PM placard.

Trade Wind drew her cards, frowned, and showed them to the camera. “Ooh, this isn’t good. Monsoon, what are the odds of me drawing only three Imperialist policies?”

The blue mare thought about it for a literal second. “About forty-two percent discounting certain variables.”

“Well, there you have it. This is all I’ve got, so we’ve got to play something.” She passed two cards to Siccoro, he shrugged at them, then played an Imperialist policy.

“Now,” Raptor began, “she could’ve been lying. Are we sure she didn’t just toss a Loyalist policy and force Siccoro here to play that?”

“What,” Edie responded, “and you’re saying he didn’t just play the Imperialist card she gave him instead?”

“I’m just saying that he’s not that kinda guy. You just want the game to end, don’t you bud?”

The green stallion rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, this is exhausting.”

Raptor nodded. “So, if he had the chance, he would’ve played the loyalist policy. It’s that simple.”

“Hmm,” Trade Wind started, “I’m having my doubts about you Raptor, so why don’t you let me check your ID? Since I’m the Princess and all.”

He slid his envelope over to her. “Be. My. Guest.”

She looked at it, put it away, and slid it back. “Well, aren’t you just an agent of chaos? Not even an Imperialist and he’s throwing shade all over.”

“No way!” I blurted.

Raptor smiled. “There you go. Not an Imperialist, like yourself.”

I could feel a vein bubbling on my forehead. “Why would you lie about me? We’re on the same team!”

He shook his hoof at me. “I don’t think we are.”

What an asshole. Maybe I should’ve beaten him last time…

“Anyways, I’ll pass this to Stormy—”

“Do not call me Stormy!” the mean mare shot. “My name is Tropical Storm and you will use it!”

Trade Wind ignored her. “And Stormy can be princess next!”

Tropical Storm took the placard and threatened Trade Wind with it. “Call me that again, and I’ll shove this so far up your ass you find out what ‘all the way through’ means.”

Far louder than it had any right to be, Spitfire blew her whistle. “Foul! No threats, take your nicknames and suffer or leave the team, Stormy!”

The dark mare’s eyes twitched. “Do not—!”

Spitfire pointed a hoof at her. “Who do you think you’re arguing with, Stormy? Do you want to be a Wonderbolt or not? Because if you disobey me, I’ll make sure you never work in this field again! Am I understood, Stormy?”

You could feel the hate emanating from her seat, but she didn’t dare talk back. I felt for her though; that same threat was issued to me. I wonder if she’s one of the ‘edge cases’ Spitfire was talking about earlier this week.

“Fine. Here, you take this shit.” She slid the PM placard to Monsoon. “Fuck your objections, we vote now.” Surprisingly, the vote passed with only one no, that being Nightingale, who hadn’t voted yes once this game. “Extra fuck you because I’m making Monsoon princess next round too.”

Monsoon coughed into her hoof. “She, uh, only gave me Imperialist policies. The chances of which are still fairly high, but there should still be three loyalist cards in the deck… provided they haven’t been discarded.”

“You know what?” Stormy announced. “I want to change parties! Fuck these Loyalists, they all suck! May chaos take the world!”

Effie tilted her head. “Isn’t that a quote from Elder Circlet?”

“No! F—”

Spitfire glared death at Stormy, and she didn’t dare say more.

Trade Wind clapped her hooves. “It so is! That’s what you hear when you meet the samurai stallion at the top of the mountain after doing his quest! It’s kinda hard to proc too, I had to ask my chat for directions… I didn’t know you liked video games, Stormy!”

“I don’t! Shut up!”

Monsoon coughed into her hoof. “So, uh, I guess I’ll just play this and pick the next PM…”

“Wait a minute!” Nightingale exclaimed. “Does that mean I don’t get to be princess next?”

Raptor shook his head. “No, this is a special election, it goes back to normal turn order after this round.”

The red stallion crossed his forelegs. “It had better! I want to be Princess.”

“I’m sure you do, buddy,” Raptor said with a smirk. “Anyways, who’s your PM, Monsoon?”

She scanned the table and settled on the mare across from me, Effie. “How about Effie?”

The violet mare looked a little startled by the invitation. “Oh, me? I’m not really good at games like this…”

“Well, nopony is good at everything on their first try. Any objections?”

For one reason or another—mostly that her mother, the head trainer, was sitting right there—nopony voted neigh. “Alright, you get to be PM. The chances, in theory, are very low for me to only draw Imperialist policies, so we should be fine to move on…”

She drew cards, kept a neutral face, then slid them to Effie. Effie frowned at the cards, then played yet another Imperialist policy.

“Uh… is… was that it?” Effie asked.

“Yes, which means that there’s probably only one Loyalist policy in the deck, and two were discarded…” Monsoon scanned the table, checking the eyes of everypony.

Smiling, Spitfire tilted her head at Monsoon. “Well, that’s four. Now you’ve got to kill a player.”

The realization hit her like a brick. “Oh…”

“Well,” Edelweiss began, “I think Raptor is obviously the most suspicious pony here.”

He raised a brow at her. “Oh, is that right? Even after Trade Wind checked my card and told you I was a Loyalist?”

She turned to Trade Wind. “That’s right, you did lie to everypony’s faces. Why did you do that? You’re one of them too, aren’t you?”

Trade Wind covered her mouth. “I lied? That can’t be right! I saw his card and everything! Are you trying to cast doubt on me?”

“By my count,” Pigeonhole began, “you’ve been the most vocal this game, Miss, uh…”

“Edelweiss.”

“Right. I can’t say who is lying more, but I don’t think either of you have been telling the truth between you and Raptor anyways.”

The white mare threw her hooves up. “Look, I have been honest this whole game, and I still think Raptor, and Trade Wind too, have been lying. Prism played the Loyalist policy, so why would you think I’m an imperialist if I gave it to him?”

“That’s true…” Monsoon mumbled.

“You could just kill Stormy,” Raptor offered. “She’s not even playing the game right.”

“Damn right I’m not! I don’t even wanna play this stupid game.”

Monsoon sighed. “I guess that’s fair. Do you really not want to play anymore, Tropical Storm?”

“I…!” she paused, confused. “No,” she said slowly and at a much lower volume.

The blue mare nodded. “Okay. Then I’ll kill Tropical Storm.”

“Well, that’s one problem child out of the way,” Spitfire said. “Since this was a special election, the next pony to get the placard is Nightingale, who wanted to be Princess so badly.”

“Yes!” He was so happy to have the placard, it was a little weird.

“Alright, Princess,” Raptor began, “who’s your PM this round?”

He looked around, starting with Effie. “You’re on a term limit, no, nopony would elect scum, you’re on a term limit, absolutely not, absolutely not, hmm… no, dead, you freak me out, and… you’ll do. Aquilon will be my PM.”

The uppity stallion raised a brow at the red one. “I would ask, but I really don’t want to know why you’d choose me. Very well. Shall we vote?”

For the very first time, there were enough neighs to outweigh the yeighs. “Wha-why wouldn’t you vote yes?! I was going to be princess!”

Raptor shrugged. “Honestly, I thought it would be more fun to deny you because you wanted it. Awfully suspicious to be wanting to be Princess, after all.”

Most ponies agreed to that, even Aquilion, who also voted neigh.

“You’re all ingrates! See how I treat you now that you’ve betrayed me!”

Edelweiss tubbed at her temples. “You literally ran down a list of everypony and said you didn’t like a majority of them, what did you expect?”

“I expected you to see my greatness, you ungrateful deplorables!”

Trade Wind held a hoof in front of her face. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that’s not a very good way to make yourself popular. Most ponies try to be nice to win favor.”

As if this was a real revelation to him, Nightingale fell into deep thought. “It can’t be…”

“Anyways…” Ryusei took the Princess placard from him. “I declare that Miss Trade Wind shall be my prime minister. Are there any objections?”

“Nah, I’m cool with it,” Raptor said.

Edelweiss shook her head. “Nope, he’s been lying, she’s either an Imperialist or Sombra, and if Sombra gets elected at this point, we lose.”

“I suppose I could vote yes if it raises my approval rating…” Nightingale said.

“Look,” the blue stallion began, pointing at Nightingale, “I don’t care who gets elected what, but can we all agree that this guy is just the worst?”

Raptor held up his yeigh card. “I can vote for that.”

“Same,” Siccoro added.

The majority of the table agreed and voted yeigh on Nightingale being the worst, with Effie abstaining and Monsoon voting neigh.

Nightingale covered his head with his hooves. “How could this happen? Am I not a Wonderbolt now? They told me this would bring me fame!”

“Since you’ve all voted to be petty,” Monsoon said with an edge to her voice, “can we do the vote on Ryusei and Trade Wind and get this over with?”

While I agreed that Nightingale is the worst, that made me feel bad too. My parents are the opposite of neglectful, but maybe I’d be like that too if they were.

“Sure,” Raptor said. “Let’s vote.”

The vote passed and Trade Wind showed the camera her Prime Minister placard. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m about to stack the court, fill the government with my people, and remove the princess, because you’ve just elected Sombra!”

“So I was right!” Edelweiss shouted. She turned on Raptor. “Come on, show me that Imperialist card, you traitor!”

She snatched it from him, but he didn’t bother arguing. He just leaned back in his chair and smiled. Of course, Raptor was an Imperialist.

I hit the table. “I knew it!”

“Well, whether either of you knew or not, you didn’t win the game, so…”

Ryusei took his own Imperialist card out of his envelope and bowed his head. “I must also confess that I, too, was an Imperialist. I apologize to you, my teammates, for my deceit.”

Monsoon frowned. “You were? Then that means Trade Wind and Raptor discarded loyalist policies! Who else was an imperialist here.”

“Well, I was,” Effie said, “but that didn’t end up mattering.”

Siccoro raised his hoof. “Me, sorry.”

The blue mare looked so utterly betrayed. “B-but I believed in you!”

“I mean, acting is, like, my hobby. I was a theater kid before ponies started telling me I was good enough to be a Wonderbolt. I played Twin Cross in that one play where the guy is tricked into killing his wife and then himself. The Tragedy of Reversi if you know it.”

Wait a minute, isn’t that the play that Haze was trying to get a part in? “I think my little brother is going to be doing that play for my old high school once the semester starts.”

“Woah, no way! You have a little brother? What role is he? That play is kinda about racism, ya know.”

“The army general?”

Siccoro frowned. “Oh. That role is usually reserved for an earth pony though.”

“I mean, he is, so it’s cool.”

That seemed to surprise just about everypony except for Spitfire who knew.

The uppity stallion, Aquilon, narrowed his eyes at me. “You… are not a purebred?”

Man, that’s a thing to ask somepony. “I mean, technically, yes, but my dad is mixed since my grandma on his side is an earth pony. Uh, does that matter though?”

He gave me one last dirty look, then turned his attention elsewhere. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

“Wow, that got uncomfortable real quick!” Spitfire announced. “Let’s play another round, huh?”

The table groaned, but nopony argued. The first game had only taken about an hour, but we were on the clock until Spitfire said so. And so, the game played on.