Wayne sighed. This was going to be a long night.

When Mr. Jefferson first began organizing the weekly game night, it enjoyed a very healthy attendance. Tempted by offerings of homemade beef stroganoff and cheese fondue, his friends and fellow teachers at Orde Street School didn't need much convincing to attend. However, they quickly learned that Mr. Jefferson's calm nature vanished when he put his competitive tactics into motion. His "healthy gamesmanship" had a pesky habit of devolving into pure psychological warfare. It turned out that no amount of warm cheese dip or chocolate covered pretzels was enough to ease the pain of his in-your-face victory dances and un-sportsmanlike taunting. Soon the weekly game nights were whittled down to just two participants: Mr. Jefferson and Wayne.

But Wayne didn't seem to mind. He found Mr. Jefferson's passion inspiring.

"Pass me the rule book," Mr. Jefferson requested.

Wayne slid the "Conundrum!" playbook across the table. Mr. Jefferson opened it and flipped the pages slowly, shooting sly glances at his opponent as he perused.

"Just as I suspected!" he hollered triumphantly, slamming the book down on the table.

"What?" implored Wayne, wary of his friend's epiphany. Mr. Jefferson held a dramatic and suspicious pause.

"…Nothing… Nothing at all… May I offer you a coffee?"

It was another one of his bizarre diversionary tactics. But Wayne wasn't falling for it.

"No thanks. I'll wait."

Mr. Jefferson nodded. Wayne was proving to be a worthy adversary.

"…How 'bout a little music then?"

Mr. Jefferson strolled over to his vintage 1970s Cordiggan sound system. He swept the dust off the cover of the record player, and glanced back at Wayne.

Wayne waved.

Mr. Jefferson quickly turned back around, and knelt down to flip through his vast record collection. After careful consideration, he settled on a 1979 release by George J. Campbelle, a self-proclaimed R&B legend. Carefully removing it from its sleeve, he gently placed it on the turntable; Mr. Jefferson relished in the ceremony of it all.

Mr. Jefferson ambled back to the table and took his seat, giving Wayne a healthy dose of stink-eye. Wayne nodded his head to a mellow rhythm emanating from a pair of tall brown speakers. Mr. Jefferson turned his attention back to the board, miming potential move-scenarios with his hand and talking softly to himself.

And then it clicked. He grabbed his game piece and hopped it across the board.

"If I move diagonally here, you have to retreat back to yellow five, leaving me to double up green twelve and leaving you with no other options left… CONUNDRUM!" he yelled excitedly, jumping to his feet and nearly knocking the cheese fondue pot onto Wayne's lap. Wayne stood up and offered his hand across the table.

"Good game buddy." He said warmly. Mr. Jefferson flailed about in an elaborate touchdown dance, then moonwalked over to Wayne, and shook his hand.

"You too, pal. You too."

Mr. Jefferson retired to the kitchen. He packed a small doggy bag with a plastic container of fondue cheese and a paper bag full of donut holes. He then took a small clipping from his spider-plant, and carefully placed it in a cup of water for Wayne to take home. He presented the care package to Wayne, who graciously accepted.

"Thanks man. Are we still on for a game of squash Saturday?"

Mr. Jefferson nodded.

"Wouldn't miss it, man. I'm bringing my game face!"

Wayne smiled.

"I trust you are."