Lucas would giggle. The game was working perfectly. In his faz de conta , he wasn't just playing. He was watching himself play, with professional voice actors narrating his every move. The dust motes dancing in the sunbeams became sparkling special effects. The creak of the floorboards became the dramatic soundtrack.
The old, dusty television set in the corner of Grandma’s living room hadn’t been turned on in years. But for little Lucas, it was the most magical object in the world. It wasn’t the screen that fascinated him, but the two small, gray speakers flanking it. He called them Os Dubladores (The Dubbing Artists).
But the left speaker crackled and said: "Hey, kid. Don't cry. A true knight finds another spoon in the drawer." um faz de conta que acontece dublado
From the right speaker, a worried voice would chime in: "Oh dear! The brave knight has tripped on the enchanted carpet of tickling! Will he ever get up?"
And then, the magic would happen.
One day, Lucas decided to make it a sad scene. He pretended his spoon-sword had broken. He knelt on the floor, pretending to cry.
Lucas laughed so hard he fell over. His faz de conta wasn't just happening dubbed anymore. The dubbing was talking back to him. It was giving him advice. It was being silly with him. Lucas would giggle
First, he’d pick a hero. Today, it was a brave, make-believe knight named Sir Silly-Socks, whose sword was a wooden spoon from the kitchen drawer. Lucas would run in front of the TV, swinging the spoon, and then he’d stop, look at the left speaker, and whisper, "Your turn."