Ezekiel and Jerry go first. Ezekiel pushes one of the two boxes of questions cards over to Daryl. "Would you read to our team?"

Daryl is gripped with quiet panic, the same kind he used to feel in fourth grade when the teacher went around the room asking kids to read aloud from the textbook. But then Carol reaches over him, grabs the box, and says, "I like reading the questions. Do you mind, Daryl?"

"Nah," he says, relief and gratitude easing through his tightened muscles. "Go ahead."

[*]

Daryl better get his brains fucked out tonight for agreeing to play this game. That's what he thinks. It's all a bunch of ridiculous nonsense.

Jerry and Ezekiel's turn is taking for-goddamn-ever. They just keep answering questions correctly and moving around and going again. And Ezekiel looks so sickeningly smug every time they win a slice and he slides it into their pompous blue pie. Daryl wanted the blue.

Finally, they dynamic duo misses one, and Khalid reaches for the dice. He and Roland manage to secure a single pie piece during their only slightly shorter turn. When the dice get handed over to Daryl and Carol, they wash out in three questions, earning not a single triangle.

"Sorry," Daryl mutters. "Don't know shit."

"You knew both the RPM questions," Carol reassures him.

He did. One was about Jimi Hendrix and the other about Pink Floyd, but as far as he can tell, it doesn't matter what you know if you aren't on a triangle. He sighs in a closed-mouth growl and braces himself for a long, torturous game.

[*]

Jerry and Ezekiel have three pie pieces now, and Khalid and Roland have two. But Daryl and Carol have finally manged to get one, and Daryl's surprised by the little competitive jolt he gets when he slides it in.

"Get us on another triangle," Carol demands as she hands Daryl the dice.

Daryl holds them up to her lips. "Blow for luck."

Carol's warm breath blows onto his palm, tingling his flesh, and he rolls the dice. She sighs when she sees the numbers.

"'S good," Daryl assures her. "'S a roll again."

"Oooh!" Carol moves their pink pie with a click clack clack to the roll again space.

Daryl sweeps up the dice and raises his palm to her lips again. "Now blow real good this time."

A fart-like laugh erupts through Jerry's closed lips.

Daryl flushes pinkish-red.

Carol looks uneasy, probably because of what happened last week.

Daryl flings the dice peevishly on the board. "Get yer mind out the gutter!" he growls.

Jerry looks about as contrite as a schoolboy being scolded by a teacher he doesn't take seriously. "Sorry."

Roland asks, "Daryl, how's Maggie by the way?"

Khalid smirks. "Now that was an interesting thought association process."

Roland glares at him.

"Maggie's fine." Daryl glances across the table at Khalid. "So's Rosita."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," Khalid says with a hint of bitterness. "Keeping very busy I imagine. Much too busy to visit the Kingdom."

Carol moves their playing piece to a triangle space and says, "All right. Here's our chance to tie it up with Roland and Khalid."

"Your category is publishing," Ezekiel announces as he lays the question card on the table. "What Carole King song opened with the line – Tonight, you're mine completely?"

"Ain't publishin'!" Daryl grumbles. "'S music!"

Carol looks at him, smiles, and sings,

Tonight you're mine, completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?

Roland joins in with her on the next verse, in a deep baritone:

Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment's pleasure
Can I believe the magic of your sighs
Will you still love me tomorrow?

"Damn," Daryl says. "Ya can actually sing."

"Thank you," Roland replies.

"Not you, dumbass! M'girl."

"Well…." Carol smiles. "Your girl was in the church youth choir. A lifetime ago."

"You should join the Kingdom's choir, Carol," Jerry tells her. "Why haven't you?"

"I don't know. I just haven't thought of doing it in…." She shakes her head. "So long. And I'm not as good as those people. I'm certainly nowhere near as good as Roland."

"Just do it, Carol!" Khalid insists. "You'll love it."

"We could really use another alto," Roland assures her.

"Music fuels the soul in these dark times," Ezekiel agrees.

Daryl looks from Jerry to Kahlid to Roland to Ezekiel and then to a smiling Carol. He feels out-of-place in the midst of all the comradery, and he's puzzled by how at home Carol seems here, among these people who have never been family to him.

"I'll think about it," she tells them. She picks a brown triangle out of the plastic bag that holds the playing pieces.

"You didn't actually say the title of the song," Ezekiel notes.

"Really, Zeke?" Carol asks. "I sung the entire thing."

"But what's the title?"

Carol enunciates each word deliberately: "Will. You. Still. Love. Me. Tomorrow. Good enough?"

"Not quite. There's no Still in the title."

Daryl flicks Ezekiel off, takes the triangle from Carol's hand, and shoves it in their playing piece before rolling the dice again. She lands on a roll again, tosses the dice, and lets out a whoop. "We landed on another triangle!" Daryl smiles at her excitement as she slides their pie over to the space with the yellow triangle.

"Who said, Let us continue?" Ezekiel reads without his usual flourish and eyeing Daryl as though slightly peeved. It occurs to the Daryl that the king might actually be just a little bit competitive when it comes to Trivial Pursuit. Which is going to make it all the sweeter when Daryl kicks his royal ass.

"What is this category again?" Carol asks.

"Nightly News," Ezekiel replies.

"Lyndon B. Johnson," Daryl answers.

Ezekiel appears momentarily surprised, but he hides that surprise almost instantly. "Correct."

"Boo-yah!" Daryl slaps his hands together and then slides out a yellow triangle from the bag.

"What does that even mean?" Carol asks him. "Let us continue?"

Daryl wedges the triangle into the pie. "Famous speech he gave."

"You weren't even born when he was president."

"Yeah, but 's famous speech. Ya know – Today in this moment of new resolve, let us continue. This is our challenge - not to hesitate, not to pause, not to turn 'bout 'n linger over this evil moment, but to continue on our course…And some other shit."

"Did you have to memorize the speech?" Khalid asks. "For school?"

"Nah…just heard it a few times. My nana left all these damn spoken voice records in her trailer when she died. Famous speeches, radio plays 'n shit."

Daryl used to listen to them on his turntable in his cramped bedroom in the single-wide he and his father inhabited after the cabin burned up. With Mama dead and Merle gone and his Daddy out late drinking and whoring so many nights….it was too damn quiet. Those records helped him fall asleep. He listened to them for years, even after he moved out and was living alone in that tiny RV on a rented campsite. He listened to them until the day Merle came back to town and crashed with him. Merle laughed and asked, Does little baby Dawyl need his stories to sweep?

"We're tied for first now," Carol observes as she rolls the dice. They don't land on a triangle this time, but on a regular pink space – Stage & Screen.

"Well, Daryl should know this one," Ezekiel says. "What 1981 cartoon featured big-breasted women toting laser guns?"

"Hell's that mean?" Daryl barks. "I should know that?"

"I just assumed you were watching cartoons in 1981. You would have been about eleven, right?"

Daryl narrows his eyes at him. "Weren't a cartoon," he mutters. "'S an animated movie. Didn't see it as a kid. Saw it on VHS when I was twenty somethin'. Heavy Metal. Awesome soundtrack."

"Which is exclusively what you watched it for, of course," Khalid smirks. "The soundtrack."

"He also read Playboy for the articles," Roland agrees.

Jerry chuckles while Daryl glowers.

"Is that the right answer?" Carol asks.

"Yes," Ezekiel says as he slides the card into the back of the deck and draws another.

Daryl rolls the dice. They land on an RPM triangle, and Ezekiel reads, "What group did Eric Clapton form after leaving the Yardbirds?"

"I have no idea," Carol admits. "I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel in high school. And the Kingston Trio."

"The Kingston Trio?" Daryl asks.

"Those were my mother's records. But I liked them. I'm not ashamed to say it."

"Should be ashamed to say it," Daryl mutters.

"I liked them too, Carol," Khalid admits.

Roland starts singing, "Hang down your head, Tom Dooley, Hang down your head and cry." Carol joins in: "Hang down your head, Tom Dooley. Poor boy you're bound to die."

"See," Jerry insists. "You should join the Kingdom choir."

"I said I'd think about it," Carol assures him. "I want to make sure I have enough time for my knife throwing practice. I think that's a tad more important."

"Answer's Cream," Daryl says.

"Right you are," Ezekiel agrees.

Daryl jams the orange pie piece in their pink pie. Two more to go. Carol rolls this time, to a roll again, and then to another roll again, and then to a blue triangle space.

"I think those dice are loaded," Ezekiel opines.

"Read the damn question," Daryl replies.

"Your category is Television."

"Yeah, we know," Daryl mutters. "Can see the damn blue triangle."

"Who starred along with Jaclyn Smith and Kate Jackson in Charlie's Angels?"

"Well, you know this one, Pookie," Carol says. "She's your childhood celebrity crush."

Daryl flushes. Carol's not supposed to call him that in front of other people. "Farrah Fawcett," he mutters.

"Pookie?" Jerry half-shouts.

Khalid laughs and Roland lets out a chuckle, while Ezekiel just gets a puzzled look on his face.

"Sorry," Carol whispers to him.

Daryl keeps his eyes on the board as he rolls, waiting for the heat in his cheeks to cool. They miss their next question, and Jerry and Ezekiel earn another pie piece on their turn and then Khalid and Roland get two. But when the dice come back to Daryl, and he rolls a number that takes them straight to the last pie piece they need, he yells, Hell yeah!"

"Life and Times, please," Carol says.

"This one hardly seems fair. Daryl's certain to know it." Ezekiel clears his throat before he reads the question. "What cigarette claimed to have the filter that was in, recessed in?"

"Hell if I know," Daryl grumbles. "I smoked Morleys."

"It's Parliament," Carol says. "My dad smoked them." She smiles teasingly at Daryl. "Only the flavor touches your lips." And then she bites her bottom lip.

He can't form the word Stop this time. He can't do anything but look at her lips and think how the taste of her still lingers on his tongue. Ezekiel's voice interrupts his dirty thoughts: "You still have to get to the center and answer a question of our choice."

"Hell kind of rule is that?" Daryl asks. "Ya just made that up 'cause we won!"

"No, it's in the official rules," Carol tells him.

They don't make it to the center on their next roll, and they land on an RPM question. "What was the fifth studio album by English rock band Led Zeppelin?"

"No clue," Carol says. "Never listened to them."

"Houses of the Holy," Daryl answers. "How can ya not of listened to Zeppelin?"

"It wasn't my style of music."

"Well 'm gonna find some Zeppelin records 'n bring 'em next time. Play 'em on that hand crank of yers. Give ya an education."

"I have some Kingston Trio we can play tonight," she teases.

He growls and rolls again. They don't get to the center but go through it and down another leg to a different RPM space, because Daryl feels pretty confident he's got a handle on those questions.

"What Dire Straits album contains the smash hit single Money for Nothing?" Ezekiel reads.

"No idea," Carol says.

"Brothers in Arms," Daryl answers.

"Correct." Ezekiel tucks the card back in to the back of the deck.

Daryl leads them to another RPM question – one about AC/DC – to which Carol again says, "No idea," but he gets it right.

"You sure know your rock and roll," Jerry says. "I would have thought you were more of a country music fan."

"I fuckin' hate country music."

"Really?" Roland asks with a doubtful look. "Even Johnny Cash?"

"Well, no, not Cash. He's is a'ight. And Hank Williams. But none of that Garth Brooks bullshit."

"What kind of music did you listen to, Ezekiel?" Jerry asks.

"Classical, primarily."

Daryl rolls his eyes.

"What's wrong with classical?" Ezekiel asks him.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with it," Daryl says. He just thinks Ezekiel is a pretentious ass sometimes. But his nana had a lot of classical music records she left behind, along with the speeches and the radio plays, and he didn't mind the sound of them. "Chopin, Wagner, Bach, Vivaldi, Holst, Strauss, Rossini…them sonofabitches ain't half bad."

Ezekiel's eyes widen slightly, and Daryl can't help but enjoy his surprise.

He and Carol keep missing the center when they roll, and Daryl keeps opting for RPM on one of the legs and getting the questions right, until they can't manage to land on an RPM and they miss a publishing question.

"Finally!" Jerry says.

By the time the dice come back to Daryl and Carol again, Ezekiel and Jerry have all their pie pieces and Khalid and Roland are just one short.

"We better get this right," Carol tells him when they finally land on the center.

"Let's confer." Ezekiel leans in. "We need to pick their worst category."

"Well it's certainly not music," Khalid says.

They settle on publishing, a choice Daryl resents, but maybe Carol will know the answer. Ezekiel reads, "What 1968 book by Tom Wolfe featured a band of Merry Pranksters traveling by school bus in search of intersubjectivity?"

"I have no idea what that even means," Carol admits. "Intersubjectivity?"

"The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test," Daryl answers.

Ezekiel turns the card over. Disappointment flashes across his face for the briefest of moments, but he calmly says, "And we have a winner."

Carol shoots Daryl a puzzled look.

"Merle had it. 'S about drugs. He had that, 'n On the Road, 'n Naked Lunch….think he liked readin' books 'bout gettin' high. 'N then he'd get high and give me his literary analysis."

Carol chuckles. "I'm having a hard time imagining Merle analyzing literature."

"Who's Merle?" the rest of the table asks in chorus.

Daryl's eyes meet Carol's. They had another life together, one time, back in Georgia, before the Hilltop and the Kingdom. Another life with another family. They shared campsite after campsite – at the quarry, in the CDC, on the farm, and in the prison – where they slept every night just a few cell blocks apart.

"It was a long time ago," Carol says softly. "It's a long story. And I think it's time for dinner."

[*]

The chatter of conversation surrounds Daryl like the hum of insects while he eats – a steady background noise. It's a minute before he realizes Dianne is talking specifically to him.

"Have you been practicing longbow for our rematch?" she repeats.

Daryl chews a little slower. He'd completely forgotten about the bet. "Uh…" He's been so busy hunting and building his bacon bike that he hasn't really had time to practice at all. "Gonna."

"Well, you've got six days, Robin Hood," she tells him as she picks up her fork. "I'd get cracking if I were you. I just shot a 56 yesterday with the crossbow."

A 56? That's her worst weapon. "At how many yards?"

"Thirty. I'm not quite there at sixty yet, but I'm working on it. Where are you on the longbow?"

"Workin' on it," Daryl insists.