It goes like this:
Dad: I got your Queen
Me: No you don't, give it back.
Four or five hours later...
Dad: Ok, I moved--take that!
Me: take that? Are you sure? You want me to take your Bishop?
Dad: What? Oh, no...no--thanks baby!
The dinosaurs return to earth, humans are mere metaphysical entities--we communicate by lightwaves
Me: I moved
Dad: What are the proper words.
Me: Right. Mate. Checkmate. Right?
A typical chess board after we have competed gene for gene: King & King.
Today was a huge win--I kept a Rook. One faithful, trembling Rook. Congratulations Rookie--you've gone from a promise of a thing to 2nd in command. Have fun with the World!
Pure desolation minus the tears and dead hair (due to the pulling of it out) left to regenerate another crop of warriors for our tortured battles.
What kind of King am I that I sacrifice all in my kingdom--including my Queen, but to defeat what I know will be merely 1 loan King.
"The King and I", said the Rook. "The Rook and I", said the King. And we cried.
The smart move: to have seen the field, and immediately have left, to find the nearest ice cream cone. That is a worthy conquest.