Cynic/God: Trophy-XY

American/Earthling patriot-fan of his Selfie age is challenged by a mysterious Devil's Advocate for the 'adjective' of manmade sporting/vertigo idealizations of medicine.

World psyche diorama. Happy Summer, all 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction offers no commercial/explicit ties to any person(s)/body and is (therefore) cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' views/interpretations/comment).

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A stranger had invaded my Selfie America for a message of narcissistic cynicism, costumed as a helmeted mystery-man for Halloween as I cheered the ongoing '25-NFL season of teams/towns cheers for East-West coast rivalries for cartoons and cinema (Facebook-like!).

CYNIC: I'm courting the wife of a male drug addict, Earth man.

ME: You refer to yourself simply as a cynic?

CYNIC: I cite special words concepts of absolute-value absurdism/cynicism.

ME: You're courting romance with the estranged wife of a drug addict, stranger?

CYNIC: Maybe I'm a god from another dimension seeking your Selfie America IQ!

ME: You're a Devil's Advocate then, for narcissism-problems sets for Selfie-ideas.

CYNIC: There's much absurdism in your American sports-windows capitalist society!

ME: I can see you're a serious cynic/god with an alien message for Selfie culture.

CYNIC: You think me a simple messenger of problems for examination, Earth man?

ME: I don't doubt you mean what you say; and I'm a Selfie America patriot, so...ok.

CYNIC: There's much absurdism for your society; free-agent trades for NFL piracy.

ME: For example, eh?

CYNIC: The woman I court, the estranged wife of a drug addict, feels USA-angst!
ME: I can see you're quite dark about Realism; I imagine her hubby's an ex-athlete.

CYNIC: You guessed wisely for this examination 'game' for your Selfie planet, man!

According to this stranger-cynic 'god' from another dimension, helmeted for some harvest-superstitions (or jitters) language for my Selfie America culture of Planet Earth, the absurdist-like proportions of manmade bureaucracy-arts and capitalism ethos-astral rays for examination 'games' prompted serious 'views' of what made varied diplomats of our world re-presentative of dark/weighty dialogue or lab-work (hmmm). He'd been romantically linked (secretly) to this woman in the American Homeland estranged from her ex-athlete husband because of his dependence on drugs. The stranger was quite handsome, heterosexual, and humanoid in visage beneath his helmet. He conferred to me privately for a secret-game of language and message and 'debate' of sorts to see what I'd translate for a social media story-write, which is what this portrait of non-fiction concerns (Facebook-like!).

CYNIC: Do you know the malady-media of performance-enhancing steroids?

ME: I guess our 'game' of language continues, stranger; for my NFL-Sunday USA!
CYNIC: There's just so much wiggle-room for absurdist-imagination for sports now.

ME: Athletes may succumb to the brain-pressure wave of manmade ambitions, ok.

CYNIC: What's the special draw then for a football hostel on any given Sunday?

ME: Seems you may be can infer your own intelligence, stranger...bias-flowers.

CYNIC: Flowery talk for a man of America swimming in capitalism's ripples, no?

ME: No...in deed, my Selfie America has become a jar for special teams, surely.

CYNIC: Ha, maybe...for chandeliers (farewell).

ME: We've (surely) come to a compact duration (for onions/rings)...farewell.

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)