Welcome to My Barbeque.
DJ Carter
danrydell64@hotmail.com

I’ve never seen anything like it.

Two commanders, both staring each other down, on their own field of war, flames surrounding them.

Their war isn’t of weapons; of magics. Nor is it of troop movements, gauged from stallions of war.

This is a war of wills; a contest driven by the need to outdo the other by sheer intelligence, by brilliance.

One, dressed eloquently. His very presence says ‘royalty.’ The other, dressed extravagantly, a wicked smile on his face.

The second yells over the roar of the burning hot flames, “Hand over the girl!“

And for a second, if you look, I bet you can see the first wince.

“I've no clue who you’re talking about!“

“Then, welcome to my barbeque!“

As the younger of the two stares down his opponent, a slow smile comes to his face.

He walks towards the rear of the castle, still a measured smile, as if to say, ‘Nice try, but I'm still better.’

“Get ready.“

With those two words, said only to me, I knew who had won, who was the better, who had won the contest of wills.

“Yes Sir! Right away, Sir!“

Knocking on the door behind me, I turn back to where the action is.

I don’t pay attention to the words, anymore. But as the home commander turns again, he smiles towards me, and nods.

This barbeque was over.