Fredbear Frights #12: Felix The Shark

Felix The Shark

Dirk sets out on a long-shot quest to recapture a cherished childhood memory from a unique animatronic pizzeria.

Dirk knocked over Jenny's knight with his queen. "Check." He shifted positions; he was getting stiff from sitting so long.

Jenny sat on the other side of the low oak coffee table, her elbows propped on its surface, her square chin resting on her hands. She lifted a thick eyebrow and shrugged, then moved her own queen. "Check."

"How long are you two going to do that?" Jenny's twin, Gordon, asked.

He was lounging against a pile of red pillows on the big black sectional sofa behind Dirk. "You two are stuck in a loop. Isn't there such a thing as a perpetual check?"

Dirk flicked a look at his friend. "We're not in perpetual check," he snapped.

"Actually, I think we are," Jenny said.

"We're not," Dirk said. "A perpetual check only happens when no one can deliver a checkmate. It's not something that's called after just a few checks."

"Yeah, well you're close enough," Gordon said. "Face it, the game's a draw."

Dirk shook his head several times.

For as long as he'd known Gordon, which was close to a decade now, Dirk had always found the guy's endless confrontations annoying. Maybe if Dirk had a wider circle of friends, he would have left Gordon behind long ago. But he didn't have that kind of choice.

Dirk was part of a group of five friends who spent most of their off hours in the twins' basement apartment. The twins and Dirk's other two friends, Leo and Wyatt, were basically Dirk's entire social life ... and had been since junior high. They'd stuck together through high school and college, and now that they were supposedly adults, they were still together.

Sometimes, Dirk had to admit that his small circle of friends and their evening rut was a little lame, but he couldn't seem to change coming over

here. He liked it; it was homey ... and homey was something he'd never found elsewhere.

Dirk glared at Gordon now. "The rules of chess don't require a draw just because of a perpetual check. That only happens when there's a threefold repetition or if the fifty-move rule is met."

"Okay, but you could agree to draw," Gordon said.

Dirk frowned. "We could, but giving up is a sign of weakness."

Gordon snorted. "Some would argue caring this much about a game is a sign of weakness."

"Chess is the sport of kings!" Dirk shouted. He sat up straight and crossed his arms. "It's a game of mastery and intellect and creative thinking. In fact, I think children should be taught chess in school."

"Some are," Jenny said. "I just read about a special ed program where they're using chess to teach abstract reasoning and creative thinking. In fact, I'm putting together a proposal to take to the superintendent to see if he'll let me start a similar program. The kids I teach could use the focus."

"Good for you," Dirk said. As he often did, he lamented the fact that Jenny was just a friend. Back in high school, he'd tried to turn their friendship in to something more, but Jenny had gently told him she loved him like a brother and only like a brother. For the last seven years, he'd been telling himself she'd change her mind eventually. That was why he'd stayed here to go to the same college she went to, why he was writing for the local paper instead of becoming the travel writer he wanted to be.

Jenny caught Dirk staring at her, and she gave him a raised-eyebrow look. He flushed and shifted his gaze to Gordon, returning to his argument.

"Well, all kids should learn chess," Dirk said. "There's no debating it.