Ethan Goffman - Issue 36

Ethan Goffman is author of the short story collections The Church of the Oversoul and Other Stories (Uncollected Press, 2025) and Realities and Alternatives (Cyberwit, 2023), the poetry collections I Garden Weeds (Cyberwit, 2021) and Words for Things Left Unsaid (Kelsay Books, 2020) and the flash fiction collection Dreamscapes (UnCollected Press, 2021). Ethan has published nonfiction in E: The Environmental Magazine, Grist, The Progressive, The Montgomery Gazette, Greater Greater Washington, The Baltimore Sun, and elsewhere.

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Total Domination

So Sheryl was perched on Chuck’s lap, Sandy frozen staring with her mousy little eyes in disbelief, and Arnold wishing he had never heard of Total Domination much less gone out and purchased it. Sheryl gave Chuck a big, wet kiss on the cheek to seal their alliance.

“This is too much,” said Arnold.

“It’s all in good fun,” said Sheryl. “Besides, Chuck needs to know that I’m sincere. Double besides, it’s your game and it was your idea.”

It had all begun nearly two years ago when Arnold had run into a group at the local Panera playing a complicated game with multiple boards, cards, and colorful pieces shaped like animals. Allured, he had stopped and asked about it. He had loved Stratego and Monopoly and Risk as a kid and he wanted to find out more. “This one’s a bit complicated,” said the guy at the table. “You’ll want to start with Ticket to Ride.” That evening, Arnold found the game on Amazon and clicked to buy.

From then on, the two couples, Sheryl and Arnold, Sandy and Chuck, had a semi-regular Sunday afternoon of Ticket to Ride, and later Catan, which Arnold had long wanted to play. Sandy would avoid using the thief in Catan, saying it was too nasty, but Arnold noticed that, in return, people rarely placed the thief on her, so she often ended up winning. But both games had gotten dull and, after reading an array of website reviews, Arnold had picked Total Domination as the next level challenge.

The cover was a bit much. It showed a buxom woman wearing leather and a queen’s tiara, carrying a whip, glaring threateningly at what appeared to be a meeting of ambassadors from around the world dressed in a variety of outfits—a turban, a fez, suits and ties. “That looks yucky,” Sandy emailed when Arnold sent around a preview of the game. “Are you sure we should play?”

“That’s just to sell games,” Arnold replied all. “I’ve read a bunch and this game’s best. It’s really all about strategy. And it’s full of surprises. It’ll be fun.”

When Sheryl insisted on digging out her favorite Halloween costume from years ago so that she could dress like the woman on the game cover, Arnold was perturbed but said nothing. She had even ordered a whip, which arrived just on the day of the game. Once Sheryl was dressed up in that skimpy leather outfit, Arnold had to admit she looked amazing, her golden locks cascading, her creamy flesh exposed, her stomach taut from her exercise regime, as she strode around the house wielding the whip. He was proud she was his wife, but also a bit horrified.

A week before their wedding, Arnold had dared ask Sheryl a question that had been wearing at him, whether she agreed to marry him simply because he was going to inherit several million dollars. After all, he wasn’t tall, he walked with a bit of a limp, and he was an average student at best, though through doggedness he had earned his MBA.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sheryl had said. “Marriage isn’t like dating. I needed someone I could count on. Someone loyal, like a dog. A cute little beagle. Not one of those wolves I used to date.”

“Yuck,” said Sandy, nose quivering like a guinea pig, when she and Chuck arrived and she glimpsed Sheryl’s outfit. “Are you sure we should play, honey,” she asked, gazing at Chuck with desperate little eyes, nose quivering like a guinea pig.

“Don’t take it so seriously,” said Sheryl. “I’m just role playing. Get into the spirit of the game.”

“It’ll be cool, honey,” said Chuck, squeezing Sandy’s hand.

Somehow, it seemed to Arnold, Chuck’s eyes kept following Sheryl that whole evening. Arnold remembered the pang of jealousy he’d felt a few weeks ago when Sheryl kept complimenting Chuck’s audacity at gambling. He’d just won a thousand dollars betting on the Celtics to win it all. “Arnold’s too chicken,” Sheryl had said. “We can’t even spend an afternoon in Atlantic City, much less fly down to Vegas.”

It now seemed to Arnold that Chuck been glancing furtively at Sheryl the whole time they’d known each other. But people often looked at Sheryl—was that a crime? In a way, Arnold was proud, although also terrified that someone would steal her away. Still, this evening it was ten times worse. Sandy, too, kept glancing, like a worried chipmunk at a nearby cat, at Chuck making eyeballs at Sheryl.

The rules for Total Domination, which Arnold had read twice and even watched a video of, seemed unnecessarily complicated. The winning team had to dominate the planet on three levels, militarily, economically, and culturally. There were a number of secret cards, some given out, some picked by the players themselves, that dictated whom they might win with and how. Alliances could shift during the game, so one never knew whom to trust.

That first game, the four were busier fighting the rules than each other. When, exactly, could you use a newly built factory? Did you need to prepare the military before an invasion or as part of one? And seemingly a million other details. “I thought you said you knew how to play,” said Sandy.

“I’m trying, but it’s complicated,” said Arnold, looking up Rule 27 C, an exception to an exception. “It’ll become fun once we get into the flow.” He then proceeded, without quite realizing how, to single-handedly dominate the globe on his next move. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to win so fast. I guess it’s because I know the rules best.”

“Let me take a look,” said Chuck, grabbing the thick rules set. Chuck liked to take charge, often crediting himself for the snicker doodles Sandy had baked with just the right chewiness.

Chuck insisted on going over to the couch, flicked on the lamp, and poured over the whole set of rules, stopping to glance at Sheryl’s exposed belly only a couple of times. Meanwhile, Arnold served the angel cake with cream that he’d baked special for the occasion, even though it had fallen and he’d added too much salt, while Sheryl gabbed on about her new real estate project, how she was on the verge of a killing with the investment she was masterminding on a sprawling complex, Gentry Estates. She even managed a little dig about how Arnold had been passed over for promotion a second time, but she would secure their financial future.

“I just don’t suck up to people enough,” said Arnold. “But I get the job done, which is what counts. You’ll see, I’ll end up doing better all those sycophants. I’ll outwork them. In any case, we’re set financially in the long run.”

“Yeah, as soon as your father dies,” said Sheryl. “Of course, the old man’s a real bull. He’ll almost certainly outlive you.”

“Lookie here,” said Chuck, suddenly springing up from the couch. “You’ve made a bunch of mistakes. See,” he said, brandishing the pages and pointing at rule 17.3 G, “you can’t make a financial attack unless you have more banks. So you broke an important rule on the second turn. And in the end, you didn’t actually fulfill the requirement for total cultural domination.”

“It was just a test game,” said Arnold. “We’re learning.”

“We need to strike that game from the record,” said Sheryl, glaring at Arnold.

“Let’s go, honey,” said Sandy, gazing at Chuck, who was gazing at Sheryl. “You’re getting all obsessed and overly competitive. Besides, the game is too complicated. We can do Ticket to Ride again next week.” 

“I want to stay, honey,” said Chuck. “I spent all that time combing through the rules. Plus, it looks like a fascinating game once you get the hang of it. I bet we’ll learn to love it.”

“I agree,” said Sheryl. “I spent all that time getting dressed up. I want to take full advantage of my costume.”

“I guess I’ll try it once more,” said Sandy. “I don’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun.”

After reshuffling the three card decks, then carefully sorting an array of counters, they were playing once again. Arnold was faced with an immediate dilemma. He had to choose one harmful secret card from among three, and they all looked so pernicious he didn’t see how he could win. Finally, he chose the card that meant he could never win with Sandy, figuring she didn’t know what she was doing anyway so it wouldn’t matter.

The game was surprisingly quick, despite multiple time-outs to look up rules. Time and again, Arnold realized he had made a dumb mistake at the moment it was too late, failing to mobilize his armies at a crucial time, not buying the factory he needed. Sheryl and Chuck collaborated from the beginning and had soon achieved financial and economic domination, leading Sandy to protest, “you shouldn’t just be a team just so you can win. Make it fun for all of us.”

“We’re only doing what the cards dictate.”

“You chose the cards,” said Sandy.

“Not all of them,” said Sheryl. “We’re only trying to win. That’s the name of the game. Total Domination.” And with that she leapt up and gave Chuck a big, wet kiss on the cheek. “And we’re totally dominating. That’s what makes it fun.”

The game lasted longer than expected, as Sandy had amassed a priceless collection of global art and kept finding ways to avoid cultural domination, staying just ahead of Sheryl and Chuck.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight—or rather, the digital patterns on everyone’s phone formed a perfect 12:00—Sheryl played her last card, causing a massive fire that destroyed Sandy’s Great Library and Museum. Arnold imagined himself in the library, surrounded by burning books, the flames licking at his flesh. The move took Sandy down to a scant one point behind Sheryl and Chuck, who now led in all three categories: cultural, economic, and military.  It was Total Domination.

Can’t you do anything? Sandy’s eyes seemed to plead at Arnold, who shrugged his shoulders hopelessly, feeling his face flush red and ashamed. Sheryl and Chuck leapt up, high fived, gave each other a great hug, a big wet kiss, right on the lips this time. At least it wasn’t French, thought Arnold.

“Well, it’s late, we’d better be going,” said Chuck, and he and Sheryl arose.

“What the hell are you doing,” said Sandy.

“We won, so our reward is to leave together,” said Chuck, wrapping his arm around Sheryl.

“That’s not part of the game,” Arnold protested.

“It’s total domination,” said Sheryl, giving Chuck a peck on the cheek that did, then, turn into a big wet kiss. “Enjoy your evening together,” she said to Arnold and Sandy. Then she turned to glare at Arnold. “You don’t deserve her.” Sheryl swung open the door to the front closet, donned a silky white coat, still wearing skimpy leather underneath, and headed out the door with Chuck, arms around each other.

The door slammed shut to silence.

Finally, “I hope you have a comfortable couch,” said Sandy.

“I’ll get blankets and sheets,” said Arnold. “At least I’ll make you a nice breakfast in the morning.”

“I’m going to have to divorce him,” said Sandy, as Arnold tucked the sheet into the couch cushions. “He’s cheated on me before.”

Falling into a brief sleep alone in his king-size bed, Arnold thought of numerous ways he could have played better. He never should have taken that card prohibiting alliance with Sandy. If he’d seen the threat and built up his navy earlier, he could easily have stopped Chuck and Sheryl’s military domination. Maybe if he hadn’t been so stupid, he’d be peacefully asleep beside Sheryl. He had long been amazed that she’d ever agreed to marry him. And now it was all over, burnt to ashes, like Sandy’s Great Library.

He wondered if he could find new players for his games. He saw a future devoid of women, devoid of romance, dominated by hours upon hours, years upon years, of games, perhaps with that group at Panera. Mostly, he would lose, but that was his lot in life. He wondered if Sandy would still play with him. But did she even like games? Most likely, she would never want to see him again.