The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and generations of inheritance. A string quartet whispered through the air, caviar was passed and champagne flowed. A herald consulted a card, ”Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's entertainment,” and servants wheeled out a rack of polished sabers. The guests politely applauded. A young woman and a young man entered from opposite ends of the stage and chose their weapons.

You've got to be kidding.

You. I thought you were… um… you know.

I was under the impression you were.

Hm… well … en garde.

Clang of swords

At least I won.

You absolutely did not.

I clearly remember disarming you.

I clearly remember you dropping your sword into a fountain.

I was on fire

Fair point.

More clanging of swords

For the record, I maintain that I won.

For the record, I maintain that I threw you off the balcony.

Yes, I remember landing on an accordion player.

Thank you for that.

History will vindicate me.

You’re about to become history.

Clang, clang, clang!