“Have it your way.” He said casually. The man sitting opposite him dawning an expression of fearful bewilderment.
“…I, uh, mean no disrespect.”
“I know you don’t.” He looked down at his crossed legs and brushed some dust from his silk pants. “Listen, you understand what you’re doing, right?”
Following was a long, discordant silence. Their emotions danced an incongruent dance for a silent and foreboding audience. Out of the silence a strong, authoritative voice broke through.
“Do you see my outfit?”
“Yeah, it’s very nice, Sir.”
“It’s made of sea silk. Do you know what that is?”
“It’s one of the rarest things in the world.”
“Did you hear what I said?” the voice was quiet and gentle yet commanded the utmost respect, “It’s not one of the rarest fabrics or silks; it’s one of the rarest things in the world. It’s rarer than gold - more expensive than gold too. Do you know how much a suit like this costs?”
“…well, I won’t bother you with those details. The point I’m making is this: I can afford this suit. I can afford this suit because I’ve earned it. I’m in the position that I’m in because I’ve fought for it. Do you understand?”
“Good. I’m glad you get it.” A long silence followed, “…do you still want to do this?”
“…sorry, Sir…but…” Just then a red, plastic, coin-sized disk was dropped into the slot, “…connect four.”
“………you son of a bitch.”