4 September 05

Frankie V Big Man

African American Big Man - one of the widest inmates I've ever seen - challenged Frankie to a game of chess. Frankie sat down on the concrete and crossed his legs. Big Man parked his behind on a curb. The players eyeballed each other. The onlookers eyeballed the players. The game began.
Midway through the game Big Man said,"En passant. You passed my motherfuckin' pawn. You stop right there.” Big Man snatched one of Frankie’s pawns, and said, “Check! Gimme dat bitch. That’s what you get for runnin’ yer mouth. It’s like takin’ candy from a baby.” He hastily removed Frankie’s queen.
“Why you gotta cheat to win, Big Man? Can’t you win a motherfuckin' game fair and square?” Frankie said.
“What? I don’t hear you. Git your sorry ass down there. Git! I said git!” Big Man yelled.
“Hush your mouth. I’m gonna beat you without my queen.”
“Where’z you gonna go?”
“Where are you gonna go?”
“Same place you’re goin’.”
“What happened?”
“What happened to you? What happened to you?” Big Man said, his voice growing louder.
“If I tell you, I gotta kill you.”
“Touch it, move it, motherfucker!” Big Man said.
Frankie, having touched a piece that he didn’t want to move, was compelled to move it by Big Man, an adherent of the touch-it-move-it rule.
“Quit cryin’, motherfucker” Frankie said.
“Rape. This is motherfuckin' rape in the third degree,” Big Man said, after capitalising on Frankie’s mistake, and capturing all of Frankie's main pieces, leaving Frankie with just a knight.
“Rape in your ass, motherfucker. Gimme dat bitch. Check!” Frankie said.
The check enabled Frankie to capture Big Man's queen.
“Wotcha gonna do with dat horse. You ain’t got no hay. You ain’t got no hay, motherfucker!” Big Man said.
“Check!” Frankie said and snatched one of Big Man’s rooks.
“I didn’t need that rook and I don’t need no bitch. Check!” Big Man announced as his rook captured Frankie’s knight.
Frankie moved his king – his remaining piece – toward a corner of the board. Big Man’s pieces had Frankie’s king surrounded but Frankie was not in check. Frankie had nowhere to go.
“Stalemate!” Frankie declared.
“Dat ain’t no stalemate. You don’t know what the fuck yer talkin’ about. That ain’t no stalemate, motherfucker.”
“You can’t play for shit, Big Man!” Frankie said.
“It’s a stalemate,” I said.
Big Man looked at me and saw I was taking notes.
“It ain’t no stalemate. What the fuck are you writin’ down? Don’t be tryin’ to write no motherfucker a love letter. Ain’t nobody gonna write to you” Big Man said.
“He’s not in check. He can’t move. It’s a stalemate” I said.
Big Man stood up. Leaving a trail of insults echoing in our ears, he wobbled home.

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Copyright © 2004-2005 Shaun P. Attwood

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jon.
Came across your site on a link from the times and started reading....lost an entire day reading every post with a mixture of shock and awe.

I have to do a lot of business in the US and people laugh at me when i say that i am uncomfortable in the 'South' as i may look at somebody wrong and end up behind bars, and my personal idea of hell is a US jail, little did i know that my sub conscious fears were near enough spot on. My admiration for you and all the other guys in the system for the triumph of the human spirit to over come adversity and still look for a reason to smile.

Any penal system that places the emphasis on social vengeance is destined to debase the very society it purports to serve, how can it be that 'Papillion' is still possible in our supposedly enlightened age?

Keep up the writing, i am sure there will be publishers all over you for the wrong reasons, so self publish for the right ones.

Regards,
Bruce Bettridge

Stuart Granger said...

Always let the wookie win.