Page 33 of The Tiger in the Sack

Thank you. Data. Please.

Comfortable shoes, some kind of boots if you have them. Layers. That’s all I’ve got.

Fine. And I assume I need a helmet.

I’ve got one for you.

So this is my initiation?

Your what?

Into the Mandalorian Creed. You can’t just hand someone a helmet. There’s a ceremony. There’s a foundling acknowledgement. I have rights under the Creed that I need to be made aware of.

...

I will prepare appropriately.

Is there a clan signet? I feel like based on current evidence it involves cats.

Technically Vito would have to approve any clan signets involving cats.

Obviously. I’ll await his formal review.

He’s considering it. Very seriously. With great ceremony.

As is appropriate.

This is the way.

This is the way.

The sandwich maker called my name. Right. Back to life. Back to reality.

I met Dev, the three past captains, and the football players, Kingman, Daws, and Rutherford on the field so that I could show the guys the blocking and take as little time from their practice as possible. “Guys, your roll is easy. All you have to do is play a little catch. And let the cheerleaders do the work.”

Fox Daws raised his hand like we were in fourth grade. “So are we the talent? Do we have lines? What’s my motivation?”

I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. He was an actual actor after all. “Your job is football Ken.”

“Got it, coach.”

Rutherford gave two thumbs up and smiled. His cute little dimple should have had me swooning.

Kingman didn’t say a thing, and I was pretty sure he was thinking this was totally beneath him.

Then Dev wanted one player to do a quick camera test and pointed at the nearest one, which was Kingman.

He looked at the camera. The camera looked at Kingman.

“Just say something,” Dev said. “Anything.”

Kingman blinked and said, “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Dev turned into a smiling statue.

I made a note on my clipboard that said give lines to Fox Daws instead and did not look up.

“Cool,” Dev said. “We’re good.”