What he cared about was the fact that the little piece of wood showed a twelve, which meant his little brother Eddie was gonna get it good. "Uh oh, Eddie. Uh ooooh.."

"What? What? Did I find the address?"

"Noooo." Ted uttered in a sort of condescending laugh. "Oh, no."

"What, Teddie? What is it?"

In the barn on the farm where they lived, Ted and Eddie were playing their favorite game, "Futures and Failures," in which they pretended to be running around large cities in the future, fighting evil monsters, toying with various bits of impossible futuristic technology, and amassing large fortunes in the process. But at the moment, the only thing Eddie was going to amass, thanks to Ted's lucky roll of the dodecahedron, was pain.

"It's a wandering business man, Eddie."

Eddie face went very pale. "No."

"Yes, Eddie- and he sees you!"

"Ahh geez- umm. what level is he?"

Ted smiled. "He's a junior executive- VIP track."

Eddie gasped. "No!"

Ted felt sorry for his little brother- but only slightly sorry. Futures and Failures was a difficult game to play, because it was necessary to think like a future-person would think- not easy. If Ted and Eddie were walking through a forest, in real life, and a dragon suddenly jumped out, they'd know what to do- kill the sucker. Sure, they'd be scared, and sure, they'd probably get burnt to a crisp, or frozen solid, or melted to their bones. But at least that was a fear they knew. But how does one comprehend the mindless terror of going bankrupt? How does one deal with the utter horror of a tax audit? How can one understand the arduous hell of a soul-rending process called a hostile-takeover?

"What're you going to do, Eddie? Hurry- he's got a briefcase."

"Uhh. I'll get out my cellular phone."

"Okay.." Ted rolled a few more painted wood cubes. "You're battery light's on- better make it quick. Who're you calling?"

"My- shoot, what're they called?"

"Brokers."

"Right- I wanna call her."

Ted rolled again. "No dice, Eddie. Line's busy. The business man's reaching into his jacket."

"Oh geez- umm.. shoot shoot shoot!" Eddie was sweating visibly. Sometimes Ted thought his little brother was a perfect dork. Actually, that's what he thought most of the time. But out of all his friends, Ted's little brother played Futures and Failures with the most believability.

"Okay. I'll pop one of those valley-oleums and shake his hand."

Ted rolled his wood, and determined that Eddie's attempt at calm was successful. Then he checked the 'Valium's' effectiveness. "Allright. A nice and soothing wave of calm overcomes you. You'll get a plus three from the Valium on that handshake. The business man looks as harmless as an office boy, working in a mail room someplace."

Eddie smiled, slightly relieved. "What's he doing now?"

Ted grinned. "He's pulling out a business card! Three color! Geneva Font!"

Eddie's eyes became wide again. "Oh, shoot! What's 'font' mean, again?"

"It's the shape of the letters. The better the font, the more 'clout' he has.."

"Okay. I'll take out my fountain pen and write my number on his business card."

"Okay. I'll roll to see if you can get anything on the gloss.." Ted rolled. This was great! Eddie was falling right into his trap! "No.. you only get the first two numbers out, and then the pen gums up."

"No!"

Ted cackled and rolled again. "Yes.. Okay, he's pretty mad now. He wants to know who you're broker is."

Eddie seemed lost in thought, gazing at the various farm implements hanging on the walls raised by their great-grandfather's own bare hands. Finally, he swallowed hard. "I'm gonna make a run for it."

Ted looked at him over his nose. "Are you sure? Remember, you took that Valium, so you're really not supposed to be too scared anymore. Also he's in between you and that Chinese restaurant where you're supposed to meet the inside-trader.." Damn! The restaurant was another trap, sure, but Eddie was supposed to get past the VIP. It was Ted's favorite trick- set a trap on them, let them 'escape' from it, build up their confidence, then BAM! Lower the boom. Why didn't he just challenge the exec to racquetball? That would scare him off!

Eddie nodded. "Yea. I'm sure. I only had the cheap, non-perspiration-"

"-Prescription." Ted corrected.

"Right- the non-prescription valley-oleum anyway."

"It's called Valium, Eddie, and even though you bought the over-the-counter stuff, you still got a twenty on your roll, plus the plus three for not eating lunch yet.

Eddie winced. He didn't want to make his brother mad. "Am I acting out of character?"

Ted thought about how his friends would handle this situation. 'Forget you, Ted, I'll just kill him with a crossbow.' And when Ted explained that there wasn't any such thing as a crossbow in the make believe world of Futuropolis, they would just scowl and call the game stupid. At least Eddie tried. "No, you can run."

Eddie blew out a relieved breath. "Okay- I'm gonna look for the nearest fax machine. Is there a post-office nearby?"

Ted shrugged. "I guess so- you remember seeing one a couple blocks back."

"Okay, I'll throw my tie over my shoulder and run."

Still slightly mad at his brother for not going the way he wanted to, Ted did some on-the spot bedeveling. "Okay- as you take off, the business man- he was really angry!- blurts out, 'Stop! Thief! He's got my watch!'"

"I don't have his watch!" Eddie was beside himself.

"I know that! But he was really mad, and he doesn't want you to get away."

"Well, why doesn't he just chase me, then?"

Of course, Ted thought, Eddie would want him to give chase. The first thing Eddie had his character, "Mr. Ester," spend his "signing bonus" on was the Tetriani loafers- very expensive, very comfortable. Most players picked up the quality items- like the laptop, or the extra cellular battery. But then again, it was difficult to keep real life out of the game. And in real life, Eddie was always running away from something- a basalisk, a demi-dragon, a giant caterpillar. "He doesn't want to mess up his suit, I guess."

"Why, what kind is it?'

"Fifth level Armani, with a plus two silk tie." Whatever that meant. The rules- parchment only gave the defense qualities of clothing- it didn't mention comfort. Ted had no idea what people in the future would really wear, but it had to be a lot more comfortable then the coarse cloth his mom stitched together and made him put on. And he was certain future people would wear something different each week, instead of the same thing months on end.

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. Greed. Vanquish the VIP, get the suit. But self-preservation was stronger. "Am I near the post office yet?"

"Yea, but there's a patrol car following you.."

Their mother entered at that point, towering over them where they sat on the barnyard floor. She rolled her eyes. "What in heavens are you two doing now?"

Ted looked up sheepishly. "We're playing Futures and Failures, mom."

She crossed her arms. In her day, she'd been quite attractive. But the constant rigors of managing a small farm while her husband worked the mill had taken its toll. "Again? How many times have I told you-"

"Aw, c'mon, mom! Role-playing games are good for the brain! They make you smart!" Ted knew his mother didn't approve of the game, which is why he usually played at a friends house, or here in the barn.

"Role playing games?" She said with obvious distaste.

"Yea- remember? You pretend you're a businessman- or a woman!- in the distant future, fighting corporations for power and money!"

She rolled her eyes again, looking around her for someone to explain her children's oddness, and put her hands on her hips. "As if there wasn't enough problems in this world without you bringing more into it! Aren't evil sorcerers and copper dragons enough for you? Do you have to add- what did you call them? -corper ashuns?"

"Well," Ted tried, speaking like he thought his father might, "Would you rather we go out into the forest, and get turned into newts by a witch?"

"Or get stepped on by a wild mammoth?" Eddie offered.

"Or maybe killed by a dark knight?" Ted tried.

"Enough!" Mom said, her eyes closed in exasperation. "At least those are realistic fears, which need to be dealt with on a day-to-day-"

"C'mon, ma!" Eddie tried. "Teddie usually doesn't let me play. Just a little longer?"

The woman looked down at her youngest, who she would never admit was her favorite, and smiled. She thought for a bit, trying to remain firm. "Did you do your chores?"

They'd mucked out the stable, replenished Hotspur's hay, and drawn fresh water from the well. Together they chirped, "Yes ma'am!"

She pretended to think about it. "Okay, but only for another hour. Your pa will be home soon, and I can't imagine what he'd say about all this foolishness." She walked out of the barn, saying under her breath, "Biznessmen. What will they think up next?"

With joy, the two went back to their game. Eddie said, "Okay, I'm gonna ignore that patrol car and go into the post office. Where's the fax machine?"

Ted smiled, because it was for situations like these, where his players managed to squirm out of one bad situation, that he kept disgruntled postal employees around. "It's over in the corner, right next to the the stamp machine. But you'll have to ask a very odd-looking man to turn it on for you."