When the Gen.Z kid says, “Well, obvious isn’t it? Their spokesman said they were looking forward to exotic food”, she means us being the exotic food to the ex-cannibal footballers! This mere suggestion can dampen any gold prospector’s hope no matter how large the prospect is.
The two German-French amazons decide to intervene, “The football team will meet tomorrow morning at 6am and practice. You (pointing at me) will be the goalkeeper. Their king has decreed that the match will take place at 6pm sharp. If we win we will get the bounty of the gold football field.”
That night I think of my personal options:
Negative: I can run away. I can refuse to join the team. Positive: I can be man enough to face the opponents and save my nerd-friend who is being held captive by the ex-cannibal football club. I can win and carry off my bounty -a football field of gold! I practice my farewell speech in three modes: the winner (“Today the guns are silent. A great tragedy has ended. A great victory has been won.” ~General D. MacArthur), the great escapist (in mute mode) and lastly, the lament of a heroic martyr-to-be (wordless).
My AI voice assistant SiZu is in the positive option. She has linked up with my Dronesville’s Virtual Football Club! So that is how I am miraculously saved and backed by my whole team of veteran players, retired English and other teachers well trained and superbly equipped in the latest virtual world technology by my English boss. But how am I going to set up a virtual football system with nothing here in this middle-of-nowhere?
“Ahem, I won’t worry if I were you, son. I have taken care of that.” My physically absent dad suddenly breaks the silence through the implanted chip in the flat plasma robot strapped to my chest. “I have been working on a project with the king here and we have successfully installed the best of virtual technology comparable to the world’s top three nations now.” Dad is in his usual self-confident mode.
“But how can we persuade the ex-cannibals to play virtual football?” I am still in reversed gear.
“Hahaha, son, because you have brought back the pet goat safely, the king has agreed to a virtual match instead. After all he wants to test out the system for his own purpose too. You know, the goat is allergic to all of us men except the unknown thief, you and the king. The two ladies found it first but the king only allows a man to carry it to the palace. So they had to wait till you appeared on the scene. “
“But the other team does not know how to play yet…” No one can beat this nerd in being pessimistically thoughtful on all negative aspects.
“Piece of cake. Tomorrow you are rising at 6am and start coaching them until they are conversant.” So what the two German-French ladies refer to as practicing involves me solo coaching the opposite camp of ex-cannibal players! Can I resist and desist? “NO. ” SiZu answers. “You will do as your bosses command and expect.”
When have I started having pleural number of bosses? Who are they? “The English lord, your dad, the two German-French gold investors, the king and your grand-aunt and company in Dronesville…” SiZu lists them out one by one. The number of stakeholders is overwhelming. Well, I don’t mind now that I know we will not become a mixed platter of exotic food soon. (How I am later proven wrong in this estimation…)
(To be continued)