You play hard, but Death always wins. He's not human, he's like that computer. Wait that computer did beat the Chess Grand Master in almost every game, but it did lose one. Perhaps you can be the one. You advance your knight.
Death's left eye socket elongates as if he were raising an eyebrow. You are all disguised to the outside world as a couple of old fogies playing chess.
"Interesting move," he taps his bony finger to his chin. The sound is unnerving.
He advances his bishop.
"Heads up!" shouts a college boy.
A flying disc careens into the chess pieces sending them flying.
Red fire glows to fill the dark sockets of Death's eyes. He rises up from his seat towering 9 feet in his black robes. The puppy wakes, sees, wimpers and wets itself in your lap.
The college kid asking for his Frisbee back just sees too old men playing chess, and one is standing up now and raising his cane.
You see the scythe raised with blue lightning crackling along the edge of the shiny blade.
"I'll just grab my Frisbee. You know you probably shouldn't play this close to the Flying Disc Golf Course. I think there are some other tables over by the Compost Center," he says knocking over Death's king with the Frisbee as he extracts it.
Death says, "Wait, Kevin McHale!"
"Oh, crap, I bet you're one of Uncle Quentin's buddies," the slightly overweight Italian-American says turning back to face the elderly gentleman.
Instead he finds himself see you with a wet lap holding a whimpering puppy, and Death towering impossibly over him with the scythe descending. Kevin separates from his body. His body falls backward stiffly clutching the flying disc. A transparent electric blue image stands where Kevin had stood holding a ghostly flying disc still.
"Marley had his moneyboxes, and you shall have your Frisbee!" Death said waving his hand dismissively.
The blue apparition quivers and vanishes. A blue spark remains hovering for a moment then shoots up the sleeve of Death's robe.
"Well, looks like neither of us one. But since I collected a soul, you're off the hook for now," as he speaks Death seems to be getting smaller and harder to see, as shadows seem to cover him, "Enjoy the puppy. I'll be seeing you," his voice drifted off leaving you with a messed up chessboard, a puppy, a dead college student holding a Frisbee, and an empty chair.
"Hey, Kev!" shouted a voice from beyond the hedges, "Kev, what's taking so long?"
There is the sound of branches bending and twigs snapping as heavy footfalls approach.
You look down and around, and shout, "Call 911! Somebody call 911!"