Perfect Game

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

Time passed slowly. Changeable views at court gave the king a wide palette of monotonous material for meaningless reasoning. About this and that, from here and there, the days passed and the ladies of the court, brushing dust with their dresses, the cat was lying under the chair, the jester was picking his nose.

Boredom and an irresistible desire to recreate life in this voluminous hall prompted the king to proclaim a competition for the invention of the perfect game. He himself did not know what it was, and this foreshadowed entertainment unprecedented before that day. The perfect game had to be perfect. This was the only selection criterion in the royal message to the world. The world did not keep itself waiting long, especially since the king promised not much or less for the game, but his favorable attitude and a little money. It took quite a bit of time for applicants for such a tidbit of happiness to get to the palace and line up in a queue of honor for a ghostly chance for their recognition and an unprecedented win in these parts.

The line moved slowly, like a thick jelly it flowed into the throne room and flowed out in small fragments from the rear exit. Each applicant offered, in his opinion, the most unique and coincidentally ideal game. The king so far considered all this to be an ideal inconsistency and in many respects was subjectively objective. The king yawned and waved his hand, the guard yawned and waved his hand, the jester yawned and winked, the cat yawned.

The next challenger entered the throne room and looked around. He stood in front of the king and invited him to make a move. The king opened one eye and looked at the challenger with a slight disbelief.

- Your move Sire, throw the ball.

- What ball?

“Your perfect ball in your perfect game, Sire.

- But I don't have a ball

-Sir, you hold it in your hand, it is so perfect that you don't even feel it.

The king opened his second eye and looked at his right hand tightly holding the armrest of the throne. It looks like the game has started, and the king straightened his back carefully looked at the challenger.

- Explain the principle of your ideal game

- Sire, it's very simple, you throw your perfect ball. You only have one perfect try. The ball must hit the target perfectly. And this is the perfect game. Sire, I can assure you that the game is so perfect and unique that no one has played it yet. All these years I have kept the secret of the game, and only now, having learned about your interest in it, I dared to offer it to you.

The king could not grasp this fine line between an ideal game and his imperfect life, she painfully tried to understand the meaning of the game and, not finding any thoughts in her head, simply agreed to play it once. Suddenly the game isn't so bad.

- Okay, I'm playing

“Excellent Sire, this is the perfect solution. Throw the Sire ball.

The king looked at his right hand, still gripping the armrest of the throne, looked at the challenger

- I threw the ball.

_ Yes Sire, I see it was the perfect move. I have to tell you that the ball missed the perfect target. You lost to Sire, you lost perfectly.

The king raised his head and peered at the floor, trying to find the ball and target. A slight excitement swept through the hall. The courtiers began to gaze openly at the floor. The cat was asleep. The jester was picking his nose and carefully examining what he had picked out. The guard waited for the order.

I must admit, I myself involuntarily glanced at the floor, and immediately raised my head with an ironic smile and looked at the dome of the palace.

Lord, what idiots.

The king with true royal majesty, raised his hand above the palace crowd and said

- I demand a replay.

“Yes, Sire, I was just about to suggest you take advantage of your perfect one-off replay attempt.

- Yes

-Yes, Sire, it's your turn.

- I threw.

The audience froze in anticipation of the applicant's verdict. He froze, peering into the floor of the throne room.

- There is no doubt that I hit, I won. This is a perfect win.

The king stood up and raised both hands above his head to applaud the crowd as they cheered the king's perfect throw and his perfect victory. The challenger lowered his gaze a little and beckoned the king to approach him. The audience froze in an indecisive pause.

After a little thought, the king took the cane from the guard and slowly descended from the throne, accompanied by the jester, the guard and the cat, to the challenger.

“Sire, please look at your ideal ball and your ideal target on my part. I'm sure you haven't been able to hit the target perfectly. Take a look Sire.

The king, never looking at his throne from the front, approached the challenger from afar and turned to look at the floor towards his throne. He first drew attention to how imperfect the throne looks from the outside, how small and not royal enough. The king paused for a long time. The audience began to whisper nervously. Some bookmakers began to give out winnings on the king's slip. Everyone understood that the game was lost. The king, royally, with his head raised, turned to the challenger.

“Sire, I’m sorry you ran into this. I hope you appreciate the perfection of this game.

-She really is perfect.

-Sire, I have to inform you that you have been disqualified for attempting to falsify the result of a perfect game.

The sound of a body falling into a swoon attracted me, and I turned my head towards the groaning ladies. They so absurdly entered this performance with their part that I gladly excluded them from my attention.

Lord, what idiots.

- What do you mean I'm disqualified?

“Sire, that means you can no longer play the perfect game. I'm sorry Sire.

The king still proceeded like a king to his throne. He sat down, resting his head with his right hand. He looked at his right hand. Again he rested his head on her. He made a sign to the guard to call a lawyer and an accountant. Two figures immediately rose behind the throne and began to whisper in both ears. The crowd listened. The challenger was silent, peering at the floor. The jester lit a cigarette nervously. The cat hunted for the glare of the sun.

- So, I will annul my disqualification by my royal decree.

“Yes Sire, your wise decision is perfectly perfect. I dare to point out to Sire that the withdrawal or cancellation of a suspension in a perfect game requires considerable financial costs for the work of the federation of the perfect game and the payment of penalties.

The king listened to the whispers of the two behind the throne. The hall froze. The dome sank lower. The cat ran into the kitchen. The jester winked at the waiter and made an unambiguous gesture for a drink after.

- Well, we can agree on the financial costs of the game.

“Thank you Sire, your wisdom and generosity is as great as your respectability. Sire, I dare ask you to pay for more repairs to the perfect ball and perfect goal. Your two perfect throws have damaged them. Sire, you were the perfect player in the perfect game. I will send you my bank details by courier.

Best wishes to you.

Lord, what idiots.