Could I be friends with thee?

One gorgeous sunny day, much like last Sunday, two people are playing a humble game of chess in the park. The first player moves their rook three spaces to knock out their opponents knight. "I can't believe you saw that...without your glasses!" says the opponent. A grin comes her way from the first player, its difficult to tell if he's being mean or genuinely happy about his small victory. It doesn't matter for long. The opponent has moved the bishop ten spaces to knock down the first player's queen and has the king trapped. "Check mate!!!" Bewildered the first player stares at the chess board. Five. Ten. Twenty minutes pass. He still hasn't made a move and the opposing player has the feeling that the move will never come. "My dear, I think you've finally mastered the Simple Art of Murder," says he. Strange. Double meaning? She thinks it over for a few minutes, a smile forms on her face as she realizes the subtle hint of Raymond Chandler's essay in his words. They'd talked about it at their last meeting and she barely understood it's intentions. Before the chess game, the first player explained it to her using chess metaphors and she shared her interpretations of it. Now, the first player knows that she has understood and clears the board with a swift hand. The game is over.  They've both won.
I could see my friendship with Vonnegut as that situation (if we had ever met and had the chance to become friends), every moment would be simple and complex simultaneously because we're such opposites. The fact that he'd be an old man means that he'd be difficult to relate to at first and I have a feeling that I wouldn't make the effort to be entertaining. Maybe our first meeting would be like that of Billy and his mother. Vonnegut hiding under the sheets! What a sight that would be, considering the poor soul had seen so many things as a POW. I feel as if I would make pointless conversation just to be polite and Vonnegut would sit there wondering why I'm pestering him. After a long and awkward time, I'd mention my interest in chess and oddly enough he would offer to help me improve my game (because what old person doesn't enjoy some chess?). We'd be like those old people friends you see in the movies, playing chess in the park. Except I would be much younger than he, but you get my point.
After many a day, my strategy to take down an opponent would improve and Vonnegut's peculiar sense of humour would begin to make sense to me. Finally! I've barely understood it while reading this novel, but I imagine he would make sense in person because I could ask him to elaborate on the moment to which he is referring. I'd ask him to tell me his intended meaning to something like, "A dog barked in the distance." Those strange moments in the novel where I was completely taken out of my reading because of something so random. It would be interesting to see if Vonnegut was eager to talk about Slaughterhouse Five or if he would try to avoid it because he'd already written those events and couldn't face to relive them through speaking to me. Its a mystery of course. That's why my fictional chess game with Vonnegut ends with me winning in chess and learning his meaning by "Simple Art of Murder" it could relate to many things. Such as the fact Raymond Chandler was a writer as well and he didn't write story's that were happy dory all the time (Vonnegut clearly didn't write Slaughterhouse Five to be a happy story because it is a war novel, has dark humour, makes Billy suffer etc.). Maybe that the title itself, The Simple Art of Murder could relate to the experiences Vonnegut went through in Dresden. All of those innocent people were murdered and it was fairly simple for the government to cover it up because it wasn't a significant contribution to the war efforts (thus a shame on them murdering all those innocent people).
All of those unanswered questions I have about the novel would be answered by the writer himself. It would be interesting to actually have a conversation with Vonnegut and I'd like to think we could play a game of chess in the park on a nice Sunday...and I would win.