It's all about the thoughts of the people. All about their jealousy, their awe, that feeling that knows they're impressed by you, that people like you...and when you read minds, everyone likes you. Once you know what people want, you serve a purpose and are the life of the party.

I guess it was what led me to chess. Quiz games are too boring- when you're in a group of friends, most will know the answer. There's a reason poll the audience is usually one of the most surefire answers on Who Wants to Be A Millionaire (which I fucked around and won as a lark once.) Real sports are too hard- sure, I know what pitch the pitcher's throwing each time, but I still have to hit it. But chess? It's a war game, and as it was said, "Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear a hundred battles."

So I played. And won.

And kept winning.

And kept winning. Soon, my friends said I was good at chess. They suggested I go to chess clubs.

And kept winning. Soon, local tournaments. And kept winning. And regional tournaments, and national tournaments, and now I stand here as the newest grandmaster.

I never really got the hang of the rules. Just read the other person's mind for what they plan to do next, what they're most afraid I'll do, and do it.

Finally, they offered me a big game against IBM's newest supercomputer. A big prize offer, a big deal...and with how many do it before, you can't NOT do it.

Shit. It's a bot. I hem, I haw, but the money's too good. The match is set.

I go into the room. The supercomputer is there, close to having broken chess, and I play it.

This is it. The moment of truth.

And then...the audience was in shock.

I CRUSHED the bot. Absolutely destroyed it. The first big win for a human against a supercomputer in decades. It was all over the news. The chess grandmaster who saved chess for humanity. AI fans were inconsolable, in shock. The programmers were apoplectic- they thought it was impossible I could win against a bot, but wipe the floor with the bot so badly that even reprogramming the AI would be hopeless; the whole supercomputer's chess mind was hopelessly broken. I felt bad for them as I heard their thoughts- they were some of IBM's best programmers, and I just ended their careers in an instant.

I have to feel for the people on the project. They did so much to help me.

After all, I may not be able to read the mind of a supercomputer, but I can damn sure read the minds of the people who programmed it and find out how to hack the program, can't I?