As Morgan and I looked across the chess board at each other, something occurred to me... his face was that of a battle-scarred warrior. A veteran of a million seductions. A million more rejections. A tireless campaigner in the sea of uncertainty we only know as 'life'. He broke the silence.
"What did you think of Bruce Almighty?" he asked, with a wry smile.
I pondered my response. Knowing that a reply of anything but the most calculated praise would send him hurtling into a blinding rage. My buttocks tightened as I desperately searched for the words. Beads of sweat crowded my top lip like schoolchildren craning their necks to witness a playground fight. I suppressed the fear, and slowly, opening the chess match with my oft-utilised Benoni defence, I looked Morgan in the eyes and uttered my reply.
"Well..... " I said. "...it was crap."
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