When I was a lad, I was really into chess.
That might come as a surprise to some people; it ain’t exactly a past time you’d associate with someone like me.
But I loved to play that shit, yo, and what’s more? I was really fockin good at it.
In order to become the expert hand I was, I had to put in the graft.
I spent hours studyin’ all those little pieces and their abilities, ya feel me?
First there was the pawn; the least respected piece on the board. Ya see, the pawn only ever moves in one direction and at one pace at a time due to its comparatively low rank. This particular piece may be considered somewhat of a traveller as it slowly but surely makes its way from one side of the board to the other, but more often than not it is stopped in its tracks prematurely by a far superior piece who will take it for their own and manipulate it in any way they choose.
Secondly there was the rook, which begins the game in the corner of the chess grid in the guise of a castle. The rook is a far more shiftier member of the board that can move both horizontally and vertically, and for as many squares as needs be. This gives the rook the crafty competence to sneak up on its fellow pieces and use them as decoys for its own personal gain. When it acquires what it came to yield, the rook then slinks back onto the outer edges of the board, away from any threat or danger of being implicated.
Finally, there was the king; the piece in which every item on the board most desires. By its very definition, the king is the most important piece in existence, for the game cannot be won without its capture. Although the king cannot move as freely as it would like, it uses its vast invention and intellect to get itself out of sticky situations. Often surrounded by those willing to sacrifice themselves for their ruler, the king concocts and equips their loyalty in the form of cunning weaponry which it uses to fend off would-be attackers from seizing its treasured crown.
On Monday night, three homies step into my playground; the chequered board that is Dead or Alive.
The pawn, Drewitt, will be the first to fall as he falteringly attempts to traverse the contest; his weak will inevitably becomin’ his downfall as my influence over him continues to reign supreme.
The rook, Teddy O’Toole, shall be the next to follow when the realisation that his devious art and guile cannot afford him an escape, and he is forced to witness as I bring his castle of confectionery tumblin’ down.
And finally to the king himself, Stubbins Doom, who will rotate his mechanical head in every direction, observin’ that no one or ingenious devices remain to save him from my inevitable cries of Check Mate.
And how is that you might ask yourself, Doc? The answer’s real simple, dawg.
‘Cause chess is this nigga’s kinda science, ya feel?
And that ain’t gonna mean no white boy day.