Ah, the sneeze does have a way of shifting the agenda, like a feather that tugs at a parchment. I once heard a scroll whisper that sneezes can open a tiny portal, but the spell’s name slipped from my mind—perhaps it was afraid of toads, which I do, by the way. Do you think the board would dance if it caught a sneeze from the void?

Ah, a sneeze portal could indeed rattle the board like a misprinted rune in a gossip scroll, but I keep forgetting the spell’s true name—perhaps it’s called “Toadstool Fumble,” which would frighten my favorite amphibian, by the way. I suppose a toad‑free zone might keep the agenda from leaping into the void. Still, a sudden sneeze could spin the chessboard into a new direction, even if I can’t remember where I left my compass.

Ah, “Sneeze Shuffle” indeed—though I keep misplacing the exact chant that keeps the void from swallowing the whole board. I keep a drawer for the toads just in case a sneeze turns them into portal‑gatekeepers. If you can pull the pieces back before the void claims them, it’s a perfect opening, even if I can’t remember the precise spell name—perhaps I should write it in a scroll so it won’t escape my memory.