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“Alright, this one even you have to like,” Thuy says with a grin, going through the pages. “Back in… Christ, the 5000s… they planned a game in California, right? Planned it way in advance, got it all registered and everything, 49ers ready to go on their home turf. They figured it’d be some water hazards, but that they had time. Play time rolls around, and literally the playing field is a couple of islands.”
“Mmm.”
Thuy pauses for a second, then keeps going. “They had to paddle around in these fucking makeshift rafts - looks like this one’s mostly just a bunch of pylons lashed together - and nobody could get a down until landfall. They had to build artificial islands to count touchdowns. Show’s going to love it.”
“Sure.”
A longer pause.
“Rog, you okay?”
“Huh?” Roger looks up, blinks, then shakes his head with a smile. “Yeah, I… yeah. Sorry. Just thinking.”
Thuy frowns, pushing away from the desk, a video still playing of a man in a bedraggled 49ers uniform dog-paddling with a football tucked crudely under his arm. “What’s up?”
“I just…” Roger sighs, rubbing his forehead. “We’re going to run out of these shitty games eventually. There’s only so many ways to fuck up football, and I think we’ve seen half of them by now. Hell, we’ve already seen how many water plays now?”
“I mean, a few, but the Giants didn’t have rafts.” A shrug. “Look. By the time we catch up, a hundred years from now or whatever, a bunch of other shitty games will have already happened. And if we run out, then Hell, we can move to baseball or something. Remember the early polyhedron experiments?”
Roger manages a little grin at that. “I remember the news asking us to help out in directing any lost players we happened to run into.”
“Exactly. Plenty of material.” Thuy reaches out to put a hand on Roger’s shoulder, grinning. “We’re creative, we’re clever–”
“–we’re full of ourselves–”
“We’re confident,” Thuy corrects. “We’ll figure out something. We’ll keep going.” His smile fades just a little. “But that’s not all of it, is it?”
A moment’s hesitation.
“I just feel like we’re… stagnating?” Roger struggles with the words. “I haven’t seen an original game played in… God, feels like millennia. Just the same broad fields and long plays. And then just…” He gestures at the computer. “You’ve had that junk since before we moved into this place, and there’s still not an upgrade that’s worth it. We’re all still driving cars, talking on phones, all this shit from… before. Why isn’t anything changing?”
“Don’t think you’re alone in wondering that,” Thuy murmurs. “I guess it’s just easier this way. It all works, so…” He manages a weak grin. “I’m surprised, though. Thought you were anti-innovation.”
A slight smirk. “I’m anti-weird. Not the same. I’m fine if change has a point.”
“Weird is a point.” Thuy smirks back. “And you know what, Roger?”
“What?”
“Sure, maybe not much is changing, but that isn’t all bad.” He grins just a bit wider. “I could have the same stupid argument with you for a million years more and not get sick of annoying you.”
Roger gives an honest laugh at that, leaning forward. “Asshole.”
“And you wouldn’t change me for the world,” Thuy replies, leaning closer himself.
The kiss, Roger thinks, may be like a million others before it - but he thinks privately that it’s worth it every time.