There was no chance to screw up his eyes, dude. No chance to get closed by the hands. Everything happened so quickly, that he wasn't able even to think about it. Sam tried to jump out aside and he did it surprisingly easy. As if in slow motion the taxi car in front of him turned into a pile of steaming iron. Checkered spinning yellow lamp from the top flew in the air and dropped in few feet before him. Somehow it was hard to tear eyes away from black squares painted on plastic. That's a symbol of the profession, that gives money for living for some time. Sam, a black fat man worked as a taxi driver, while having an opportunity, and now has decided to die. "By the way, did I die or not," - he thought and looked to his bloodied massive body, half-fallen out of the broken windshield. "Yeah! I'm dead. Good" - Sam decided with satisfaction in a moment before he become cold with horror.
Rather, he would have been cold, if he had had something to get cold. Sam did not have anything that would become cold, or warm, or something else. For the same reason, he could not screw up his eyes, he could not get closed by his hands - he had no eyelids, he had no hands. Sam was trying to look out, grab himself at least for something, but he had nothing to catch himself. That was scary, dude, but he did not have anything, what he could catch himself for. He darted, he tried to scream, and maybe he even screamed, but he simply could not grasp who is crying and who is rushing if he has had no mouth and no body.
- Yo! How ya 'doin', man?! Wazzap?! * - heard Sam and turned around, although he would not be able to explain exactly how he heard something and turned around, but he did it, dude, our Sam did it.
- A-a-a-ah! - he screamed when he saw the great Chuck Snoopy Snow before him, Chuck Snoopy Snow himself, who had been reading rap for him on the radio, even when Sam had sucked in a black mamas tits. Chuck wore in the stylish black leather trousers, the stylish black leather jacket, his white shoes were encrusted with diamonds as well as his white hat. The abundance of shiny rings on Chuck's fingers amazed Sam not less than graceful platinum three sevens on a massive chain around his neck.
- Don't be so loud, brother, it's me, Chuck Snoopy Snow, came to help you in your difficult times - said Chuck with stylish gestures. Sam, just suddenly realized that he was not breathing, tried to find his throat by the hands, but, you know, he could not find anything.
- You know what, brother, you better stand still now, doing nothing, got it? - Sam guessed that Chuck had something to say, but could not grasp what it is.
- Yo! Can you hear me? - friendly asked Chuck. For a while he watched Sam in desperate spirits and unsuccessful attempts to find himself, then angrily threw up his hands and shouted out:
- Freeze, you motherfucker! Freeze now! Can you hear me, motherfucker? Freeze! Or I'll fuckin kill you! - Chuck pulled out from behind a huge golden gun and pointed it at that Sam's side where, as Sam recalled, his forehead had been. Sam just cannot breathe, but now he would stop breathing, even if he could. Somehow that helped. For a while, Sam, stood frozen, staring at the Chuck's face contorted in anger and with black eyes which stood out brightly in protruding proteins.
- That's right ... Now... Don't even think to move, man. One move and you're dead. Even if you're already dead, you will be so dead, that you won't not even know how you'll be dead. You'll be dead-dead, got it? Don't try to nod, stupid. Your head pierced the windshield and will never be able to nod to me in response. So... Just out of curiosity, I want to know. Why have you done that? Speak as if you can. Don't think. You haven't really did it for all the time of your life, so you can easily handle with that. Why did you kill yourself?
- Shm... Scri... Crisis...
- Oh! So I see a radical crisis-fighter? You killed yourself to finish up the crisis, right?
- Me... Na...
- Shut up! You're a funny asshole, Sam. Do you think the crisis has been over? For you it is just started, motherfucker. Because you're upset me. I've been disappointed. You didn't do that you had to do! Again! Can't you study, stupid?! Have you at least understood what I mean?
- No... A...
- Great! Just great! You had to become the first black world chess champion, man! You had to play chess, man! But what I see? What are you doing instead of ti? You get checkered fucking lamp on your car!
- Wha...
- Shut up! How many times should I make you return for your blunt head to understand for what purpose you have broken to, nigga? Do you want to see how many times you have already tried? Really? Here, look!
Sam had suddenly remembered all his lives, while he was simultaneously realizing that he is not Sam at all. He lost, he could not even find his name now, dude, because in every life his name was different. And he was always busy in something, but felt that did something wrong. All bright and black lines of his life has suddenly become like a large checkered board with recognizable figures. And these figures were immortal. But at the end of every life without chess there was death.
- A-a-ah! Shit! A-ah! - Shouted a man, formerly known as Sam.
- Yes, motherfucker, it's a shit. All this your fight for the rights of the black people, your love with white women, your artistic wood carving... Every time I get surprised by your silliness! You always find a way to turn on the road, which is already full of a lot of people pushing each other. But you have your own way! On its way - you are the king. You are the chosen one. There is no one to disturb you. No competitors! You! Are! The first! Black! Chess! Champion! Of the world! - Chuck was constantly putting every word with hit pistol hilt in a persistent manner. It was extremely painful. It wasn't clear where and who was hurt, but somebody somewhere was very hurt by the Chuck's breaks, dude.
- So, - said Chuck Snoopy Snow calming down, - I'm giving you the only last chance, do you understand? It's a check, man. Next time it will be mate. Get on your way and go forward. You have to go! On your way! No boxing! No strategic management! No white women! Chess! Remember, motherfucker, chess! I will help you a little bit, but you must understand and make it all by yourself! Got it?