Part 8 – The Finale (Scott)
Out in the hallway, it was chaos.
The CMEslinger could only sit in mute silence as he heard Alex, his vice president of education and longtime protegee, pacing up and down the halls calling out in a panic, “Has anyone seen the CMEslinger?”
The man in black snickered until he heard Rachel, his lead project manager who he had stolen from a competing organization just 5 months ago, pacing disgustedly down the hall muttering, “It figures the man in black would desert us now.”
For two men who were used to calling the shots, the wait was more agonizing than the end of Game 7 during the 2019 playoff series between the Toronto Raptors and their beloved Philadelphia 76ers, more nerve wracking than watching a souffle rise (or not) in the oven, more torturous than watching Love Actually for the third time. Both men had confidence in the teams that they had assembled to help them execute their satellite symposia, but for a showdown whose stakes were so high, it was nigh impossible to be this removed from the action.
“Has anyone seen the CMEslinger?”
“What happened to the man in black?”
The exasperated yelps eventually died down as the clock hit 6 p.m., presumably meaning that the doors to both symposia had opened, and the competition was now, truly and finally, on.
6:13…6:14…6:15
Time slowly ticked by. The CMEslinger and man in black glared at each other from opposite sides of the worn couch, sneering with curled lips and furrowed eyebrows.
6:27…6:28…6:29
“How about we pass the time with the only true test of a man’s character?” the CMEslinger asked his rival.
“Yahtzee it is,” the man in black responded with a nod. “Marge?”
Of course, Marge was well aware of the peculiarities of the two combatants, and dug into her bag for her well-worn game box. As usual, it was an epic battle of wits. The CMEslinger was the more conservative player, racking up big scores with four “6s” and four “4s” to ensure the upper section bonus. The man in black went for the gusto time after time, hitting a lucky Yahtzee by rolling a pair of deuces on his final turn to join the other three “2s” already on the table and go along with the small and large straights he had already completed on his scorecard.
6:54…6:55…6:56
Both men were down to their last turn. The CMEslinger still had a void in his “Yahtzee” slot after patiently filling out the rest of his scorecard. The man in black’s sheet looked like a Picasso, with Xs through numerous squares, but big numbers in the “Yahtzee” slot. Were both men not mathematical savants, they might not have been able to tell who was winning and who was behind. But these men, with their acumen and experience, knew very well where things stood. The man in black needed at least two “3s” to take the lead and force the CMEslinger to roll a lucky, final Yahtzee.
The man in black grabbed the shaker. He got exactly what he needed, rolling a fateful, final “3” on his last turn to take the lead. Now it was up to the CMEslinger. The first roll was lucky – three “4s” to start with. He added a fourth “4” on his next turn, meaning that he needed just one die to turn his way on his last turn. Blowing on the shaker for luck before his fateful final throw, the CMEslinger wound up for the flick of the wrist before both men froze in place.
“Knock knock…knock knock…”
The men turned toward Marge.
“Accreditation with commendation,” she yelled in the direction of the door.
The lock clicked. The handle turned. The door opened.
“Hello Leon,” Marge said. “I assume you have news for us.”
“I do,” Leon said, strutting into the room, his eyes darting between the two combatants.
“This has been an interesting hour. At the beginning, attendees flooded to the CMEslinger’s symposium, lured in by the promise of new technology. Unfortunately, one fewer set of helping hands resulted in longer waits to help attendees figure out how to use the VR headsets, and despite the heroic efforts of your team, quite a few attendees became frustrated and left the room.”
The man in black stood up haughtily and extended a hand in the direction of the distraught CMEslinger. “It’s been nice knowing you, pal. Maybe this would be a good time to find that dappled palomino and sashay back into the desert.”
“Not so fast,” Leon said, turning toward the man in black. “You had a lot of catching up to do. The audience for your symposium was slow to trickle in. It was a restless bunch as your team waited for you to arrive, but once they finally kicked things off at 6:11, it was reasonably smooth sailing, although not particularly engaging. I saw a lot of learners crisscrossing the hallways going from one room to the other.”
“So who won?” asked the CMEslinger.
“Yeah, when do I need to order a Laz-e-boy recliner for the CMEslinger to celebrate his retirement?” questioned the man in black.
“The final tally was quite close,” Leon said. “We used high-tech infrared technology to count each and every individual that was in both rooms at 7 p.m. on the dot. Here are the totals…”
Leon cleared his throat.
“Man in black: 273”
“CMEslinger: 278”
The man in black slumped onto the couch, visibly crushed. In the back of his mind, of course he knew that this was a possibility, but no one had bettered him in competition since Larry Phillips won the Blueberry Pie Eating Contest in 10th grade.
“I lost,” the man in black whispered into the thin air, shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. “I lost.”
The CMEslinger wanted desperately to celebrate, to give it back to the man in black with every ounce of snark that had been thrown his way over the last few months. But he saw the look of utter anguish on the face of his former friend, and he just couldn’t do it.
Instead, he grabbed the Yahtzee shaker and poured out that one final die. A “2.”
“Better luck next time,” the man in black said as he yanked on his trusty Stetson hat and headed for the door. “I’ll see you around…somewhere.”
***
Now that the CMEslinger saga is complete, you might want one document with the full story to read to your kids at bedtime (we promise that the man in black won’t cause them nightmares). It’s just a basic PDF of a Word document, but feel free to click here for all eight parts.
