Cycl0n3’s lifelong dream was to be a chess legend. In life, he’d gotten wrapped up in his journalism career and not gone anywhere with chess. Now he didn’t really need a career at all, come to think of it, since dead people don’t usually hold down a 9-5. It was a perfect “retirment” to get back to himself.

So he got into the chess club and starting playing ranked opponents.

His first opponent wasn’t sure what to make of him. Cycl0n3 had to spend a good half-hour calming him down before he’d sit down to play. He kept sitting down to start to play, then jumping out of his chair, only to sit down to play again.

Cycl0n3 won! Not a bad start.

He ushered his defeated opponent out the door. The fellow lingered in the font yard, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t lost a game ot chess to a ghost. After night fall, he was still there, staring at the Samples through the office window.

Whoa. He’d have to rethink this chess legend thing if everyone was going to turn into a creepy stalker.

(All true as it happened. WTF with the chess stalkers?)