Rock, Paper, Scissors

By: Rickie O. Pauley (a.k.a. @Lymmerik)

Roger counted out the last round in game four of rock, paper, scissors with his buds, Greg and Mikey. “Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three…throw. Rock! That’s the game! I win! Woo-hoo! Four games in a row, guys. I’m only two games away from beating my old world-record.

Image Credit

“Mikey, how many wins is that for you today? Oh, I know! A big fat goose egg! I'm gonna win. I’m the reigning champ and I'll crush my old record! Greg, you can call this game.” Roger jumped at the chance of beating his all-time record of five games in a row.

Greg cupped his fist in the palm of his left hand. “Okay, two outta three rounds wins the game. Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three...throw. Roger’s win. Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three...throw. Yes! I win. Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three...throw. Dang! Roger wins the game.”

Roger whispered like he was announcing a golf tournament on network television, “and the current world champion has tied his old world-record with five games.”

Mikey frowned and sighed. “I can’t win for losing! You always win, Roger. I’m going home.” He jumped off the porch and grabbed his bike up from the ground by the handlebars. “See ya, guys.”

“Mikey.” Roger’s bobble-head wobbled back and forth with each of Mikey’s steps. “Don't go home yet. I only need to win one more game to beat my old world-record. Come on, bro, just one more game. Pleeesssee?”

Mikey stared down at his bike for a moment and rolled his eyes. “Okay, only for you, Roger. I’ll play one more game and here’s the deal. If I win, you gotta give me your allowance for this week.”

Roger smiled. “Oh, it’s on. And if I win, I get your allowance for two weeks.”

“No way!! If you win, you get to brag at school on Monday.” Mikey challenged Roger’s arrogance. “Take it or leave it.”

“Deal.” Roger leaned over to Greg and boasted, “watch this.”

Greg held out his fist and whispered to Roger, “you throw rock every time. I’ll throw scissors.”

Mikey dropped his bike and hopped back up onto the porch for the final game. “No whining when I stop you. I’m gonna take your allowance. You know that, right? Get set, boys!””

“Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three...throw. And Mikey wins the first throw with paper. Is he going to block our champion?” Greg announced the wins like a sports commentator. “Ready? Throw. One. Two. Three…throw. Roger wins the second throw with rock. Okay, it’s down to the wire. We have Mikey with a win and Roger with a win. It’s anyone’s game.”

Mikey grew more suspicious of the two and eyed them with contempt. “Roger, you never throw rock twice in a row.” He waggled his finger in the air. “Are you two in cahoots?”

Greg stammered innocently, “ar-are you ki-kid-kidding?”

Roger swallowed with an audible gulp. “I don’t believe this! Are you accusing us of cheating?”

Mikey stepped back and threw his hands up. “I wouldn’t put it past the two of you. Uh, it’s like you’re going for a gold met-tal or something. It’s-just-a-game.”

“It’s a gold med-dal, you idiot! Medal with a ‘d,’ Mikey. Metal is what they use to make a medal.” Roger smirked.

“That’s what I said!” Mikey’s face shot red with embarrassment. “I know it’s a medal.”

Greg winked at Roger and grinned. “One more throw, guys. Come on, this is for the game.”

Mikey extended his hands, fist on palm, and looked at Greg. “I’ll call this one. Aaand, one. Two. Three…throw! YES! I win with paper! Rock breaks Greg's scissors, paper covers Roger's rock!” He reached his right hand out, palm up. “My winnings, please.”

Roger felt the agony of defeat and with a sigh, he tried to avoid paying Mikey. “I’ll pay you next week.”

“A deal is a deal, pay up.”

Roger dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his allowance. “I only have four dollars and eleven cents left. I’ll have to pay you the rest next week.”

Mikey took a step backward. “That wasn’t our deal, Roger. You threw rock three times in a row. And he threw scissors three times in a row. You scammed me!”

“Mikey, I promise. I’ll pay you the other three dollars next week and you can keep the eleven cents.” Roger batted his eyelashes and curled his lips into a smooch. “It wasn’t cheating.”

Greg imitated Roger's affectionate pantomime. “Yeah, he’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Mikey stuffed the cash into his pocket and bounded off the porch. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to trust you until next week.”

Roger felt guilty about what he had done to Mikey. “I'll pay you the other three dollars next week. I didn’t win, so technically, I’m not a cheater.”

Mikey gave Roger a scathing lecture as he headed for his bike. “Dude, cheaters never win.” He tapped the bike’s handlebars and said, “this is met-tal! You’ll never win a med-dal as long as you're cheat-ter, Roger. Remember that. See you guys tomorrow.”