The Seventh Spiel

The year is unimportant. The place is insignificant. What’s relevant is that to the delight of everyone but the most seasoned and crusty cynic, a global pandemic slowly abates. There’s hope, somewhere off in the distant sea, out near the horizon, beside the shrimp boats and pirate trawlers. The shore is empty, but for one underemployed night clerk aimlessly ambling along it. Antonious Blockchain is a cryptocurrency evangelist. He likes to talk, to anyone and anything.

On this day, he’s mapping out the finer points of computational math problems to a captive family of gastropods. A French second cousin on his mother’s side would view this scene as a potential five-star appetizer – beachside escargot bolstered by fresh parsley and warm butter. But Blockchain has never eaten a snail in his life, and he’s not about to start now. As he attempted to give a quick refresher on data processing, each slug slinked away into the water, preferring the dark, dangerous abyss to continuing this lecture. Each snail had already graduated from an institution of higher learning, thus rendering this lecture without any tangible benefits. They weren’t going to receive credit for enduring it. When that was obvious, they left, leaving Antonious to fend for himself in the hopes of finding another unwilling audience. 

Antonious scooped up a handful of pebbles and seashells, skipping each one into the ocean. The he smelled something. The funk was immediately overwhelming. The kind of aroma dentists have nightmares about. It was a pungent phantasm, a fetid phantom, a putrid presence, a stinky specter, a guttural ghost, a reeking wraith. And it could only mean one thing – The Black Breath had arrived. 

There are some who would have been terrified to come within six feet of such an acrid apparition. Just not Antonious Blockchain. He still needed investors in his startup. Who better than a malodorous member of the undead? Blockchain didn’t waste any time going into “hard sell mode.” He knew that he had seven chances, or spiels, to convince The Black Breath that joining in on the crypto-craze would be a wise and prudent decision. 

However, Antonious could not, for the life of him, get through to the ghastly ghost. The first six spiels went in one ear and out the ether. To make the seventh count, he would have to pull out all the schleps. 

This was Blockchain at his best. Rattling off statistics, telling heavily embellished mining anecdotes, and making financial forecasts using aggressive hand gestures. To make this spiel a little different, he offered to play a game with everything on the line. The only trouble was they couldn’t decide what to play, board or video, computer or phone. The two fools bickered back and forth on the merits of chess versus D&D. There wasn’t enough time. Antonious concluded with a bold statement, jump aboard now and you’ll never have to worry about buying toothpaste or mouthwash again. You will know the pleasure of surprising unsuspecting people. As it stands now, they always smell you coming. 

The Black Breath acknowledged the skill and effort Antonious expelled in making his case. He coughed a bit, cleared his throat momentarily, which only led to even more hacking, and responded. 

 

“Whaddya say? You in or what?,” asked an anxious Antonious. 

“On one condition..."

“Anything. Anything at all.”

“It's cache only.”