Main ingredients:
Step brother
Code Monkey
Okra
Race track
gruyere cheese
Spice Pack:
1/3 pinch of reluctance
1/4 smidge of surprise
"Pay attention, Matt." I shove my step-brother's shoulder to get his attention. Matt looks away from his food up at the television, then back down to my laptop.
"I still don't get it."
On the television screen, NASCAR announcers pontificate about each of the driver's merits, as the cars whiz around the oval track.
"I'm telling you, it's not up to chance."
Matt stirs his bowl of gumbo. "Then who's it up to?"
"Take a look at what I've written here." I say, gesturing at the laptop.
Matt squints at the jumble of letters and numbers, the lines of code on the screen.
"You know I can't tell this stuff from gruyere cheese."
"Ok, listen this time, will you? I run the .exe. I enter in the date, the race track, the drivers, the cars, and the weather." My fingers fly across the keyboard as I demonstrate.
"That can't be all you need."
"That's it. Once I run it through the algorithm." I click run program. A number flashes on the screen: 43.
On the television, number 43 crosses the finish line as the announcers crow his victory.
Matt's jaw drops.
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