Four,(you,) had lost to X at Yoyle Chess about 101 times, and were getting pretty mad. You didn't want to beam X, because you'd had promised you'd get better at that, and X smiled, looking up at you, starting up the 102nd round, allowing you the first move.

"Four, you good..?"

The yellow, yet short variable asked in their usual sweet tone, waiting for the integers' answer.

( AUTHORS NOTE: I'm so sorry I haven't been active lately omfl 😭 )