Plan B From Out 'er Face
As a group, we are discussing our options on how best to infiltrate what on the surface appears to be some rabble-rousing but we have been told is part of a greater plan of sedition against the city state. As the sedition is being spread primarily at the gladiatorial arena, and it is believed that this is indeed the centre of whatever treasonous plans are being formed, half of the group are keen to become part of a gladiator team and try to get close to the owner of the arena, who is giving the stirring speeches to an excited crowd hopped up on violence and blood. A more subtle approach is favoured by others, notably me, as I have no hope of surviving gladiator combat, although there is no problem with the others creating a team and my watching on the sidelines. The owner of the arena would be approached outside of the arena, in some fashion, and some swift and persuasive talking would demonstrate that my ideals were compatible with my own, and a relationship of trust could be built up from that.
There was much discussion. Other options were advanced but nothing better or more convincing could be thought up than the two options we already had, and neither method was more convincing than the other. The night of the next arena fight was approaching, and we needed to decide a course of action before we turned up.
'What plan are we going with?', asks Ann-see, firmly wanting to join in the arena action.
'Plan B!', I announce, inducing a sigh from Ann-see's direction.
'...wait, which one was Plan B?', asks Dexter, after realising that we hadn't assigned letters to our plans, and I had just said that to deflect attention away from still not having made a decision of any sort.