Portraits of Self

It was a game they had started several years prior. The three often few together on business trips from San Jose to Austin. When in the air, they were the smartest guys on the plane. It could be argued that the same was also true on the ground.

The game had a pop culture spin, but quickly evolved into more of a binary history of the collective trivia of the planet, as understood by ones and zeroes. And the spaces between.

To the unfortunate passenger in first class witnessing this for the first time, it might appear as a combination of jeopardy, chess, trivial pursuit, C++ audio, and comedy improv. After a while the flight attendants simply brought them iced Mountain Dew and California rolls, and left them alone to jostle.

There were only three rules:

1) There are no rules.
and,
2) The thread must be maintained and retraceable in less than three turns.
and
3) The subject/object was never revealed, only "understood".

The curious passenger might then hear the following, round of volley:

D: "Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there. What does he care?"
J: "And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it."
R: "As I picked up my matches and was closing the door I had one of those flashes I'd been there before."
D: "See the fire is sweepin' our very street today burns like a red coal carpet mad bull lost its way."
J: "And now the suns comin' up, freeway cars and trucks, stars beginning to fade as I lead the parade."